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Post by gypsy on Jun 9, 2023 12:56:56 GMT -5
a canvass
fish are winds flies are fairies
floating branches are cabins with butterflies they are lighthouses
I see my reflection a painting of a flute
when purple dragonflies place laces of hooks on my neck the fish come and I become
music
j-a c 2023
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Post by goldenmyst on Jun 9, 2023 14:47:55 GMT -5
A sublime reflection on your being both physical and spiritual in all its wonder. Indeed you are music and all of the impressionist genius of this poem. There is magic in your words that sings to me like the best of Narnia whose enchantment flows like pan flute music over an Andean valley where time stands still like your timeless and agelessness.
John
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