Mermaid Verse

music flows from lips and as words meet sound bound and found me, your eyes wide open, soul sprightly greeting thee….

Leo Tolstoy Smells of Black Plum (9-14-2011) by Megan Marie Seaman

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“Leo Tolstoy smells of

Black plum, persimmon, and oak moss

He fills the room

With his literary fragrance

And over powers even the monotonous melody

Of provincial existence.

Sick of hegemonic fibers that

Carpet the floor

Tear it out! Rip it to pieces!

Expose the wood

Hard and raw from years of

Holding up an unwavering façade

So many believe.

Now cinch and peel

Pick and strip

The pretty paper with its

Paisley and petals pasted to the walls

Cracking from the pressure to conform to a patriarchal prose.

Azure freedom peeks from behind

And gradually beams its brilliant

Blue beauty as

The glue that held up the lie

Loosens and crumbles

And exposes cool blue truth.

Across our eys

Breathed into our senses

Felt solid under foot

We now taste the sweet

Bliss of existence in a space

Indigenous to our souls

And hear the

Harmonious tune of

Grace.” – Megan M. Seaman

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Author: meganseaman

trying to remember what I was looking for...

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