A Poem by Irma Chavez

Something comes to disturb what is still

making gentle sounds that stir-mix my meaning

and though I shake my head in agreement

the musical vowels say not a thing

but dance for the sake of the sands.

The shape they achieve becomes independent of me

attaching designed snakes through silk hair,

Writhing through my body no, for balance,

Dictating the beating of consonants’ march.

Overhead branches hold life’s secrets in the sourceless words,

as in one direction voice flows,

once thoughts are spoken the beauty of nothing is gone.

© 2013 Irma Chavez

Author's Note

Irma Chavez
Art by Irma Chavez

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You expect n I want. Has to be at least 25 character long I was tryna be simple wtf.

Posted 5 Years Ago

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Added on June 27, 2013
Last Updated on June 27, 2013