“Cherubim”
Cephalopress
Cherubim
The cloud lies in your palm
While you roll it, stroke it.
It seems to like your touch
So much so that it grasps you back
Like a newborn.
Poet and Writer
“Cherubim”The cloud lies in your palm
While you roll it, stroke it.
It seems to like your touch
So much so that it grasps you back
Like a newborn.
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