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Sun Seeker
The round yellow face
Can see beneath the veneer
Of armadillo artillery
Its gaze soldering the daunted soul
To molt an inclement aversion
And in its abysmal eyes
Stood an archenemy
Mocking the rage in my face
Leaning on an obtuse obsidian
Unseeing eyes staring daggers
So I burrowed into the dark
But in the pall of jet black
I can only coil at peace
With the warm memory of the sun
Lingering in these burns
And his superfluous rays
Percolating the stained sieves
I would never be alone
Cadenced with these secrets
In this desolate black hole
As long as I seek for it.
poem
by
Norman Santos
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