Separation

imprisoned
in irons
of ivory’s irony

inconsolable
impenetrable

in spite of ourselves
a splintered perfection

o, splendorous winter

let us seep into the silent spring

to sing assuagence
and sate the urgent seas
with tempest

Author: Max Meunier

Feminist. Ailurophile. Musician. Poet. Human.

3 thoughts on “Separation”

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