Tonight's Poet Corner: Nothing Is
Nothing Is
by Belinda Roddie
Nothing is comparable
to the heat of a hand
against an exposed belly
that rises like the city
on a hill, and all the colors
drip from window panes
to the window sill. The
sun bathes in the canal.
Our dreams are spun
from silk.
by Belinda Roddie
Nothing is comparable
to the heat of a hand
against an exposed belly
that rises like the city
on a hill, and all the colors
drip from window panes
to the window sill. The
sun bathes in the canal.
Our dreams are spun
from silk.
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