In the corridors
of wingflaps
brushed by
shadowless
fingers of
stone
my heart
awaits
a dream
close your eyes
and sleep
a voice
Or
is it a footstep
inside
my
head
The moon
dripping with
blood
against
the bile blue
death
of night
a screech
some where
deep in the woods
the sea
speaking in ciphers
A memory
we were silent
she was listening
I saw
her hands
they were
silent
and
time disappeared
I am
still
awake
clocks reversed
in the dead eyes
of a fish
I walk
I love
I am alone
like
the chirping of crickets
in her dreams.
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