'Blind Timbre' Poem by Belynda Jones

'Blind Timbre'



At 4 am it still shows
Wide open patches hide my carvings
I had hoped you could see
I wanted you to share and spruce up my spills
Breathing in your cares
And shadowing the blaze unrequited
I'm coveting the last creeping solace

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Belynda Jones

Belynda Jones

New York
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