Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Leontia Flynn

Song

Song

Song

In the silver-grey
dark of your room
your hands are still
nothing is moving

the blinds are drawn
but over and over
the stars rush forward
on your screen-saver.
Close

Song

In the silver-grey
dark of your room
your hands are still
nothing is moving

the blinds are drawn
but over and over
the stars rush forward
on your screen-saver.

Song

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