Some words I swallowed
Like pots of rain
Their beauty quenched the thirst
Some words I swallowed
Like fire and pain
Their bitterness left me cursed
Some words I wrote
In anger and haste
And spat them on the palm
Some words I sought
To heal be chaste
To find the peace be calm
Some words I followed
Like footprints lost
In dying piles of leaves
Some words I followed
Like benevolent host
Once he really receives
Both the gift of words
Right from the lips
That used to sing the poles
And the gift of words
When the mind slips
Into the broken holes
©Miroslava Odalović
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