Seidr

Sep 27, 2022
1 min read

Days array in winding paths, curving

out of sight

Ahead and Behind

Not a one left behind

Turning back is merely forward in disguise

I think

they must coil inside me

Some heavy, others

hot to the touch

All voices making waves through my body

Unwinding rosary beads upon the page

I see them, gossamer dancers

and wonder

how they somehow slip away

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