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"Black Silk"
- Sara Qureshi
- Dec 26, 2015
- 1 min read
A pinch of salt
A little hair
Skin and bones
And stomach bare
Silent whispers
In her head
Can't move or struggle
The dying bed
Quiet wind
Brushes her face
Drape of black silk
Then whisk her away
Bones a feather
Swiftly floating away
On winds of black silk
To her dying day
Memories flutter
Tiredly floating away
On winds of black silk
How I wish she could stay
-SQ 2014
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