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Breadcrumbs



Breadcrumbs

Walk the words with me,
we will unname the path
the dust, our skin
the imprint of our shades

Come below with me, and I will paint language
over your tongue, creation will fall
from your lips, seeds
of revolution in a wood unmade
By our lightened step.

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
lurkingwombat
Jul. 4th, 2012 03:28 pm (UTC)
publish your poetry somewhere!
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )