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We Shall Drink Black TeaBy Deniz Zeynep QuailBellMagazine.com and leave the dredges to tell us fortunes of a bottomless Paradise where the Priestess rules the rim and the Hermit roams the saucer. We shall not escape our porcelain paradise. We will etch ourselves into the walls along with sinews of vines and gauzy veils scripting stories of fluttering mevlana who cast a breeze onto our silent lips. Pray for our kohl-soaked sockets, where our closed eyes leave us an abyss of shrouded sisters. Pray for our scrubbed hands, that become constellations guiding shunned suns searching for their twilight nuns. Deniz is an over-20-something writer who believes a good quote and a solid pair of boots will get you far, or at least give you enough sole till tomorrow. She was a poetry student at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, where she began to combine her love of word play with her Turkish background. You will find her roaming around Richmond with a pen hidden behind her ear, ready to splice a verse Hattori Hanzō-style.
Comments
Keith Wallace
2/26/2014 03:51:24 am
This poem is rich, like dark sweet chocolate. It leaves me wanting more.
Gay Tucker
5/4/2014 02:56:56 am
Beautiful! Mysterious and poignant. Comments are closed.
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