The Well


I trace the sound of your voice,

to a well in my head.

Your mouth; a bucket of syllables,

spouting solace,

ricocheting off your vertical circular cell.

You a black balloon,

on a plate of ripples.

The languor of our lagoon,

a fluid body snaring you.

An iceberg,

treading Pleroma.

Your whispered echoes traverse,

the depths. I coyly recognise,

the wrinkled words uttered from

the bottom of my well.

Views: 60

Reply to This

Replies to This Discussion

Dear Joe,

Excellent imagery!

Well done!

The Bard

Very expressive! Well crafted Joe

Cheers Ilan
Fantastic! Brain food! Thanks for sharing! Victoria


Top Content 

On Facebook



© 2020   Created by Adrian Wiggins.   Powered by

Badges  |  Report an Issue  |  Terms of Service