Poems from EpiphanyJones16
Lips tumble from lips,
fingers pull at fingers,
and words sit heavily on the tongue.
Ears quiver with the sense of quill on paper, ...
Born of your tears,
you nestled my head close to your breast.
Swaddled in your skin,
you...
they say that adaptation in its prime is simply
assimilation
or admiration .
but I see things as they are and not for how they will be
...