HONEY TRAP

May 23

Posted by

HONEY TRAP

Beneath the surface
Shimmering halls of mirrors
Promise amazement!

Curiosity assuaged!
Infinite regress is all
A maze meant to snare

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on May 23, 2020, in Wee Poems and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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