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  1d Norman Crane
Cate
His sees her only in his dreams
her pale sad face an icon there
as soft fell down her long dark hair

the real match in his life
his wife, her words cut him like a knife
whetted on the hearthstone of their life

in the far distance he roamed alone
a falcon there upon his wrist
flying far from his fingertips
far into the burnished empty sky

& she that lived so lonely there
an ancient house in the city of light
with the scented oranges & lemon trees
under the starry dome of night

one day she saw the distant bird
as it flew the lonely gyre
his magic caught her in her heart

so sweet was it’s silver dart
& with he that was her master now
her eyes kept down to hide this fire
the singing blood of lost desire
I am huddled in the coroner,
a little beast within a man,
And when at night he studies bodies,
I come out,
now and again.
Not of ancient lore,
or some cross to bear.
But here. But now.
No Prince Charming
at the castle door.
Only her, Miss Damsel herself.
In some paper city,
called Zilch,
where things fall apart fast.
She's trapped in no tower,
but a loft instead.
With tin-foil crown,
she climbs across
the kitchen table
to slay the dragon,
in the flames
of his own black-hearted
bedevilment.
A dagger to the heart
of the matter,
and all is quiet again.
Then with a satisfied yawn,
she retires for her afternoon nap.
Let's lose our minds amongst the olive trees
Labyrinth of oiled imagination
Twirl like falling leaves / falling to our knees
in unbalanced joy and veneration
of ourselves. For there is nobody else
but us; there is no other time but now,
Red flowers bloom. A blue shadow propels
a still landscape into being somehow
fluid. Timelessly we swim, wet within
each brush stroke branch and painted wave of wild
emancipation—to forget the din
of the wretched asylum. Vincent smiled:
Dive too deep and you shall go insane,
The olive grove remains the other side of the pane.
Inspired by Vincent van Gogh's painting of the same name.
Summer's gone
Falling
            leaves upon the lawn
Summers gone
Falling,
            leaves upon the lawn
            a memory
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