Sep 142011
 
Vivid division of night and day's erased.
If only light were a little less wanted,
The pang that brings us to our knees,
Praying and palavering among stone pews....

We murmur rumors of ill-lit hope
In illegible littleness,

Have easy breathing in a blunted cove,
Voluptuous sighs swiftly wrapped
In midnight velvets
And cool contentment at the core.

Our disdainful backs
Turned to the emergent sun
In reticulated whispers
Vibrant and magnificent.


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