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Silken Ribbons

I always pretend to hear whispers of our world,
yet my mind always drifts towards that open void,
reflecting on kisses that undress the ache of my scars,

unfurling sorrows as if silken ribbons.
These will never wither,
but will be absorbed by you
when low moments come to mock.

And as time settles into evening,
your shadow will hang itself from my core.
And with sighs quivering between my lips –
my spirit will wrap itself around warmth of your body.
And when you stroke your fingers through my hair –
you will feel each aching breath of me.

Published in The Lark Written 2005

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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