Poezja

The heritage 
went for a sale. A tree 
stands denuded, after 
a nudie. 
 
An orange land hides 
the broken remains of terra 
cota. I wanted an earthen 
inkpot and a reed pen. 
 
There was a wounded word 
on the tongue. A 
dragonfly leaves the voracious 
appetite and skims on milk. 
 
Pulsating cleavage 
gets a prize. The salt lakes 
are full. A caged bird 
will not sing.