Monday, February 24, 2014


them there eyes
The sound of her voice was like drips of water at Indian caverns during late autumn in southern
How he longed for that damp air.
Uncanny underneath Earth.
One could sense the presence of ancient ancestors.
Almost hear the echo of drums, chanting, if silent for periods of time.
He missed the feeling he received of being surrounded by plentiful geo rocks.
Splitting one open would just remind him of the color of her eyes.
Kris G W Kasotis

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