The candle upon my yellow table
Why won't its flame stay still, and calm?
There's no swift current of air passing over it
Instead, too aware of its vanishing dawn
It gambols, it bounds,
Awild
Unrestrained
A polyphony! Its internal law.
Inbar Chava Frishman
This is my blog Like it, or not Some of it's good, (Most of it's not) But in the end, it Matters not; I Just needed someplace To ...
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