Clandestine Scribbling MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

She writes poetry
In thick, sliding ink
On the bottoms of
Herfeet.
All day,
She walks quietly on
Airy thoughts,
Silentloves,
And all the beauty
Of the word written in secret.
Herweight
Stamps against the ground
Snippets
Of Thoreau, Dickens,
Kant,Tolstoy, Hegel,
And all who dare
To think beyond.
You onlysee
Chipped polish and rough callouses,
Never the worded nobility
Lyingunderneath the
Pale plane of her flesh.
She strides
Confidently onthe
Hidden book
Of her
Soul.







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