Black Sea Poem by James McLain

Sometimes it would allow a release,
and milk would draw through the bed
gushing white-hot.
It insane was led with the desire and blindness.
It placed a soft kiss on crying end of the Black Sea
which would have brought tears to the eyes a blooded mare.
They could not be real' ' she said ',
each being lifted unrepentantly but with kind purpose.
speaking to him completely with kindness.
They can be only holograms.
They could even represent your father.
Don't be upset.