Posted on April 3, 2015
by Elan Mudrow
These lines in my Hands, Some say they can read them. Stories like hills speak through them A Dirt Embeds itself in my palms Deep inside the lines, I have rinsed with the coldest Water Over my opened Hand As more lines appear,…
Category: PoetryTags: Author, City, Destiny, Fortune Telling, Hands, Life, Love, Luck, Music, Nature, Palm Reading, Palmistry, Poem, Poetry, Talent, Writing
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