Prime Primitive Modernly

Distorted lenses post-
Through the time prime
‘tis hour memento mori bloom
Wedded in colours down the black earth
Black earth unearthed we cried
A glimpse we cried through a brothel hole
Taboo totem supposedly void of
Sort of free – still
In different chains idolatric
Distorted lenses we held
Against the time prime
Memento

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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