Clay Laden Fingers
Palmed Mud
Spirit Lingers
Through Vessel’s Stud
Within Dark Womb
Breathing Signs
Silent Tomb
A Whisper Cries
The Argil Alive: To the Potter Naive:
“Though Fashioned Me; In Ignorant Glee
Soon an Unheard Plea
Till I Mold Thee”
Moan into Loam!
Silence Respire
Sandy Foam
We Retire!


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