I rummage for her,
among the scrambled letters,.
Life amidst the dry leaves,
only a crackling whisper.
Lost in the abyss of words,
she stood ruined, among the ruins.
Stripped of hope and desire,
veiled in silence, consuming silence.
A tiara for her ricocheting thoughts.
I rummage for her,
The child in me.
http://verbalart.in/sircl/ecopies/1561032146.pdf
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