Fall Down On Me
There’s an epitaph mask death fetish disguise
On faces passing by dying out in footsteps
That seem so alive though their eyes are frozen
Though their lips are mute though their heads are hooded
The snow’s falling each flake is a small parcel of light
Unsigned by the sender wrapped in love
Fall down innocent fall down on me
On white washed bones and this badly chosen skin
Fall down innocent fall down on me
Bring me back to the sky womb where I’ve always been
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
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