Specular Poem by Erika Conti

velvet caresses of purity on my cheecks so unbelievably devoted to the depths of this precious dream

so real. it might as well it might as well be. it might it might. it might.

candles flames when i sleep witnessing the spirit coming to hold my hand at night.

all around just sick brocken wings dragged over feets of lost souls

but your soul

your soul i can see & recognize

always so specular

and mine.