Shania K. Younce Poems

For which eludes I is incomplete.
For which eludes I riddles I.
For which eludes I tempts I.
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What is fear in a box to you?
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On that silver line;
We'll danse til nine.
On that silver line til the moon reaches night;
On that silver line we'll danse me and you...
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Counting, counting, counting all these peolpe did.
For they counted the days.
They counted the nights.
They counted their breath.
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There is a faraway sea.
Where I have not been.
We have these shelled creatures imported.
The beautiful shell is sold.
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As tu walk seeing only air.
In far mountains rung moist air.
As if tu could hear the water trickle.
The humid parche tongue of moistless error.
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Oh, the pain of thy dog.
The crackling and crumbling.
The snapping and popping.
The loudness in hearing.
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She sat motionless.
Doomed to her days.
Sweeten by her grace.
She sat the day away.
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She twirled until she was dizzy.
He layed with a fever.
They clinging to each other.
Their hearts beating like drums.
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Aback, aback the child was.

For stuff of powdery white is falling from the sky.
For the air became chilled.
...