When it is day, I do not recognize
this land. We live on
moonlit love and hard water
soaked in oak barrels.
When sunlight takes over
this land, I do not recognize
his hands that
lay me to rest with Strigiformes
and kiss my skin to death
his voice blurs my vision
when it is day, he is
not him
he is a reflection of a
fermented sea I drown in
every night,
when I swim away from this
foreign land I live on.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 
Reblogged this on The Mirror Obscura and commented:
A really well done piece of writing. >KB
Reblogged this on Anthonys poetry corner and commented:
Yet again, anther grate piece of poetry.
Yet again, another grate piece of poetry.
love it
Just terrific.
superbly written!!!
Magnificent writing 🙂
Strigiformes – owls.
Outstanding Maggie.
Strong work. Thanks.
Love it, Maggie!! 🙂
I love the poem. Thanks.