Cupping Desires Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Cupping Desires



Forests of vacancies, freeing the essence of inner beings,
living in recesses of a future open meadow filled with
flowers and blossoms of exquisite fragrances, aromas and
colors.

Stringent, wholly together, cupping desires into chalices
of wine, prepared solely for the emptiness of a lonely
evening spent between four walls, no one to talk to.

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