Sands

Piled high,

paper in every print,

sifting through where time was spent,

aware, out of body experience,

remembrance, days won’t come back, they never did when wished for, won’t come back now,

those bridges burned,

life like the wind with fire fuel, endless ’til the sands die down.

Emily C. Poésie © 2018

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5 Comments Add yours

  1. Nathi says:

    Your words evoked something deep within me….

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m glad. They spilled out easily.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Some lovely imagery here.

    Like

    1. I appreciate your feedback very much :).

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re welcome.

        Liked by 1 person

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