Mirage
Learn more about other poetry terms
Baking, broiling, blindingly bright, blistering sun,The kabob that is my body searing, skeweredOver scorching, sweltering, sizzling sand.Deceptively blue skies devoid of any deliverance,
Feminism isn´t just equality
with men, politics, or the economy
Feminism is how
we as women
All treat eachother
Cause when we´re mean
It gets hella scary
Feminism starts with eachother
I am not a poet.
You are not a poet.
I am a lost soul with an imagination that demands to be seen.
You are a creature looking for words that fill your aching void with a sense of
belonging.
When the ocean is far awayand the wind is full of sand instead of salt,I dive back into the green pools offorgotten peace in your eyes.I swim through lakes of cheap vodkaand expensive memories.
I met her by the seasideAlmost in a tranceAs sunshine shone upon herAnd skipping waves did dance.She called me with a whisperThrough the ocean air,But as I did approach her
A flicker then calm, still as night.
Essence of traquility be thy virtuous light.
Letters of marque sent for thee,
In love's soultry simplicity.
A step in stillness never fell so high
