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Midnight & often.  

 

Things are scrambled now 

Like a wild haunting fire 

& burning ever the same 

Nothing winds down while 

Holding on so tightly 

Flowers named Jenny 

Look like us neath the moon 

When we were twisted & bright 

In black waters.  

 

Let us sail this sea, no harboring.

 

 

window 

 

 The Breeze

 

Every thing you used to be

Moves inside the breeze

I despise his forwardness

I envy her precision

Comparisons to another you are

Humorous or bleak

And always odd

My awkward plans

Can become brilliant

That is how

Inventions come to life

When old laughter

Is set in its place (a regretful face)

So laugh away

All you – who do

 

I am accustomed to bookstores

And coffee breaks

I take walks and notice you

In the distance – safely away

It’s not really you, but something

About his coat or walk or

Him being nothing that you are

Becomes you

 

And I won’t be bitter

I won’t tell the world of my love for you

But I won’t be so unwise to despise

Others who have skipping beat love

Those who dress in white and black

On an afternoon that moves

Diamonds like carousels

And presses doves into the sky

I won’t cry amidst that epic celebration

I will likewise all the say

But at home

When everything good is too draining

And old ties fall like rain

Knotting me to you

I will feel that low

Of not knowing when I will close this

Holding onto an image of one day

Our meeting by a lake

Both of us in love with not each other

Smiling like ends do when the sorrow is through

Turning our back on everything we laid to rest

As black birds fly in a sign

 

And the breeze, oh breezes!

Are mine.

 

 

 

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music by enya