Walking With the Senses
My invisible feet make themselves
Stick up under my thick pink and white blanket:
Closer to my body than I'd like.
I never stop begging my legs to grow.
My circle pink-edged mirror gazes up with its silver eye
At the white ceiling - not receiving a stare in return.
If the flowers embedded in my blanket could talk -
They'd say 'With the senses forever walk.'
poem by Amy Marie
Added by Poetry Lover
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