A Mass Of Sinuous Black

Dissolve, dissolve, dissolve
Nothing on my hands now
Clutching at the wind
Hair in a mass of
Sinuous black
Waving
Back and
Forth, exulting
Folds of skin billow
Don't shun me, laugh not
Lovely are the layers of dreams
With you, must I constantly evolve

by Doris Cornago

Comments (1)

Doris, such a fine poem👍👍👍