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Mar 2015
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In a cobalt mood, your eyes—
Colour me in graves and dust,
The scent of your hair a lofty drug,
I gave you my hand in the lost woods,
But could not find yours, your breaths
Exhale as I suffocate in a room without
Doors, without walls.  When will this day
Only begin, when comes dear, frail light
We see, knowingly but in pieces?

I once heard you whisper my name
And woke from a dream of true days
Imagined.  A shadow etched my form
Out of delusions and wants in a wrapped
Under night.  I once tasted your calling lips
And died in cauldrons, ocean climes of thirst,
Swimming to the moon in your milky eyes
And mostly all the flighty stars watched
As I crashed into the barren, sodden earth.

And my body, born— fell like black trees,
After a vast, vale of forest blazed in flames.
Seán Mac Falls
Written by
Seán Mac Falls  Éire
(Éire)   
374
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