Friday, August 24, 2007

storm clouded eyes

six hands shake the room with dark drapes

where cat eyes glare green through the split shades

where the ice melts so slowly

when the moon submits it's reflection

in the gleaming dark iron phantoms

of a frozen firescape in December

where every breath of starlight

tucks us in

under a comforting canopy of midnight blue

where no north winds nuzzle up to you

there on the porch as you look out

with eyes ever searching

in the room where you made all these perfect

paper angels

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