Secret Ingredients
Orlando
what makes one man think
he can be judge, jury, and
executioner
–
monsters
in the closet
only a mirror
Muffled
shouting at the void
trying to keep the silence
from smothering me
–
rain falls
on a carpet
of autumn leaves
Heat
deep in the furnace
liquid glass, hotter than fire
waits for the artist
–
blown glass…
a moment
frozen in time
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