The story behind your naked frame
upon which i stand
I've galloped through the dusty trail
waiting to feel the coldness of your frame
wishing to feel the fracture of your frame
where the sand dunes make a yellow flame
around your helpless ebony frame
I've come this far to read the lines
your palm curbed around your lifeless gem
your twisted face preserves that last pain
wings wing me away
from this shallow frame
make me a mirror of thorns
to look at my wrinkled face
shatters are the frames of yesterdays
and the shades of tomorrow
frame of flames
make me proud
like the pungent smells
of soured milk
©ndukauba54
N