Raphael Galerina
Raphael Galerina writes from Oregon, USA.
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My throat feels of amber
Paraclete in my dreams
Tears, knees on a pew
Fly, beautiful
A is for Autumnalis, the wonders of multiple colors, thought I'd
understand, her intellectual face
R is for Raphael, and I thought I'd let her,
let her fly
and she died, wings too sore from my words
Close to heaven, I reach for the sky, but so cold, I go inside, but she's always there
a golden ray with white
She said
Look up
now I see why.
Raphael Galerina
Raphael Galerina writes from Oregon, USA.
