I think of the world,
The sudden violence and the angry mobs
The despots and the samurai, the warlords and armies
Edifices of skulls, fortresses of twisted metal
The shadows of children left  smeared on walls and ramparts
I thought of all this
As if it were the story of somewhere else
Not here where I fashion a necklace of shells
Taking each lustred  vortex
Threading them close so they may speak
Through the thin paper of time
As a lover speaks to his other
In low  tender ministrations
Tempering all that is  unimaginable.


Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2017


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