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  Jan 25 Eleni
Prevost
Synapse finds it’s path
The page pulls words from the pen
The poet hungers
  Jan 23 Eleni
Carlo C Gomez
I want to ride the sky,
make believe
the stars are closing in on me,
and in so doing
become as them.

The glow from me,
a night light to some
off-world pier,
where children read
their storybooks untroubled.

An overhead visitor
to their lovely soul's dying wish,
the centrifugal force
keeping amusement park days
aligned with one another.

A tunnel at the end of the light,
cave of sweet
innocent dreams,
from which streams
of merry laughter emerge.
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