My woman of thousand faces
Is not mine, independently of endless trying on
My thousand masks. She’s dipping her lips
In the black coffee which flushing her beautiful teeth,
...
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Poetry and writing all about it, is an adventure of words....known and unknown to the poet. I love this poem...beautiful metaphors....deep emotions. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Larry. I am not very fluent in English and not very strong in poetry :)
Thank you, Virginia, for reading and commenting.