Ivana Amy Gomez

12: 08am - Poem by Ivana Amy Gomez

She sits back and studies the silence's breathing pattern
The pulse of pure stillness speeds up
as sharp, chilling wind flows fast through her hair like darts
Trickle, trickle, down her spine
Like cold, aged fingers gliding down a piano
at 12: 08AM

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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 2, 2007

Poem Edited: Wednesday, January 26, 2011

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