Magnetic Poetry Saturday

how the moon shines
doing her thing…an
ancient cold rock
cycling between
bright to dark
no light from
within

hope keeps
my heart open
to the voices
of a thousand
if only’s
perchance to dream

a thousand lies
can be crushed
by a tiny whisper

I remember
red hots melting
like liquid fire and
ice on my lips
but these days
I am a fool for
soft, salty caramels

~kat
(Magnetic Poetry)


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