Friday, 7 January 2022


A small infinity was placed on a hand.

Right.
To right.

I did not know that hand was mine;
it seemed a shadow I saw
in a dream.

Waiting is a continuum far from living.
Detached from knowing.

Even light must go the distance.
The star dies before it colours the eye.

© 2021 Lilium Candidum
Lily’s Verse

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