Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Midnight Oil

Lovers in a lullaby
a cackle in a casket

we breathe in our fiction through
closed eye lids

darkness

dreaming

deepening

Poets in a picture
Painted in packages of candlelight

burning midnight oil with the fires
of a poet's heart

dwelling

depth

descending

Sleep well my princess, tomorrow
is our doom

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