This poem is taken from Stand 215, 15(3) October - November 2017.
Six Poems
*
Slowly the glass, half filled, half
melting down for a slipper
not yet hardened into light
is flickering the way a moon
still sets itself on fire
...
Slowly the glass, half filled, half
melting down for a slipper
not yet hardened into light
is flickering the way a moon
still sets itself on fire
...
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