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these shallow glimpses we share
as days grow long
the scattered thoughts swirl and bury themselves
in crevices of this old house
to be re-awakened perhaps
when we are many years gone
what can we salvage of this eternal bond
while the Sun buries itself behind the Oak
that we've watched grow from the kitchen window
since the days when our hair was thick and dark
and the smell of fresh cut wood was present
what words can I say to bring tears to your eyes
tears that would come from but a glimpse
that shouted my fervent love
we are captives of our timeless, undying, unwavering hearts
yet all that remains of this diminishing soul
would disperse like the final slivers of light
should I lose you
I'm covered in the stain of my own past regressions
I'm buried in the pain of old and new obsessions
I'm crying out in vain, can you hear my confessions
I'm smiling in the rain to hide these tears
 Mar 2017 Sisilia
Poetic T
Yesterdays are just ghosts of
unchangeable depiction's.

While that which is to come are
possibilities driving on junctions
of thought not realizing there destination.
When the moon hovers hallucinated
on the post canal
breaking in bubbles of fish breath
the white widow of the night
revives her long dead tongue
to lick the scales of your skin
pulling you into her bed of nails
making love with you the whole night
leaving you bruised and insatiate
when they find your shadow
scouring the edge of the canal
with her name on its lip.
A night out on a village road in December mist alone with the shadow plays havoc with imagination.
03.12.2016, 9 pm
 Mar 2017 Sisilia
Breeze-Mist
Night is like a black fox, prancing and gliding about
His black fur iridescent with the stars that come out
His large brush of a tail sweeps over the earth
His phasing eyes a moon full of mirth
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