Heart Distant As Stone Poem by David Kowalczyk

Heart Distant As Stone

Rating: 4.8


Here, where all flowers
shrivel and wilt,
where all saints become
beggars and thieves,
I sleep with the ghost
of St. Cecelia.


Our eyes engaged, our neuroses
entwined, we cling to each other
with a desperation bloodles
and dull: like husband and wife.

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David Kowalczyk

David Kowalczyk

Batavia, New York
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