The Wrist - Poems Of The Body Poem by Not Long Left
The Wrist - Poems Of The Body
The wrist:
The neck of the hand
tingles when touched.
Fragile as ice on a lake.
Under which the waters of
life flow in red glory.
Often this paper thin skin
is savaged by the slender
blade of despair;
Red rivers drain
and weaken the heart.
The Wrist:
Delicate Neck of the hand
under which all life flows.
That's a beuatiful write about something we tend to take for granted. Very good indeed. Love Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/14/2024 1:30:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Vincent, get some fresh air. Wrist contemplation whilst depressed is a bad, bad topic.