e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

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My Loom

She is my sight; air and balloon…
This is pain; I can’t give up
She raised my head; corrects my ink.

Busy like bees; she is my loom
All but gain; as she knits me up
The thread of love, is our fabrics.

In fright or flight; I suck balloons..
She is my pleasure; no stitch up
We are bonded, like ankle and wrist.

©2017 vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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