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by Melpomene Jul 5, 2016
Our home is decadent in
Wood bows beneath the white ants and
reminds us why we will never leave here.
In summer we fan ourselves, tumble ice
cubes between our teeth and
count the days until Christmas.
In winter we toast our hot water bottles and
pray to God in stain glass windows.
I admit I don't write about you enough,
haven't thanked you enough for the full belly,
or puff the magic dragon and colic-filled-nights.
I apologise for trying to scrub
the roots of my birth
from my skin,
they were radiating warmth
I never realised I was leaving. You weren't the one I was leaving.
It's an awesome piece. It's so bold and honest and touching...
i'm re-reading this ... it is freakin awesome!
Always in love with your poetry.
by Golden AnGel Rhapsodist
I love the layout of this piece as well as the content. ..
beautifully done. ..
This is a very relatable write, i like how you've formatted this piece..it really controls the reader and makes them absorb every word. Epic
by vincent art
by Hannah Lizette