Hands in search of the perfume
Blank hands are searching for the perfume
Wet with dryness
Moon is shying away
Sun incapable of giving a hand
There is no light in the brightness
A blue pot, with nail marks
Like stars that litter
In the stinking guilt, all around
In this nosy perfume
My legs are paining
As a sign of something!
For months I have suffered
With these dot-drops
For days letters have formed
Into words, as fillers
Hiding in the void
Hands search for the perfume, still.03 January 2015
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