A butterfly burns.
Someone calls me I guess.
They are burnt on the fire of human's skull,
No air needed, despite the vacuum.Can someone tell how this fire is set?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- Golshan
- The City of Blue Domes, Iran
- I'm a sole pillar built on the ruins of this sick life...
Ciao, Golshan! I've been wondering how you were and what you were writing. I'm very happy to learn that you have a blog. I'm looking forward to reading one of your short stories.
ReplyDeleteI like this poem, Relaxant, most. Of course, as you know from the poems that I publish in the Barnwood mag, I especially like strong images.
Here is the url for a blog tht I think you would enjoy, by another Barnwood author, Peter Davis:
http://hitlersmustache.blogspot.com
Tom