A Bronze Map of Stone
Embalmed in earth, your chiselled contours lay dormant in another’s chamber; rivulets in rock congealed with dampened soil until we break you free and into
maps
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Embalmed in earth, your chiselled contours lay dormant in another’s chamber; rivulets in rock congealed with dampened soil until we break you free and into