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February 19, 2024


By Anabell Donovan


Held the shell of morning
found hidden and embossed by winds
and its unknown voice knows me
in deep mines murmured by sea hands
a treasure overflows with pearls
massive and swelling divine.

Dream deep of a swelling sea
his longed-for shape upon
which lifted gales
lip salt wave beats
in the heart's blue
my sails drum
to the sound of his voice.

Article © Anabell Donovan. All rights reserved.
Published on 2022-05-30
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