https://rizapress.com/karine-ancellin/
My lover put a stone in my hand.
Hunting the beach with her Long white legs,
Veins on marble, lines on limestone
faint dark fuzzies playing on translucent skin
Torso bent parallel to the horizon
Millennia on minute
She scans the pebbles radaring the sand and weeds
The eroded lithified orb humbles my pretense
My lover speaks their rich language,
erring through the rocky scars of time
She asks each one if it knows the Sahara
If it has seen death in the wine dark sea
She wants to know if it is dizzying to live more than a life.
But the stones are not a revealing bunch
They don’t want her to get too nosy
So they do it on purpose to hurt her high arch
Stubborn and inured to life’s trials, she persists, seeking
for the clasts that will draw a heartshaped unique
attesting the metaphysical words
View original post 72 more words
WILDsound Festival 