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Mike Markes
Poems
Aug 2015
Moths
escaping shuddering city voices,
lights that sank my salty eyes,
searing,
long oriented by starlight,
today lost in lurid skies.
lake waves,
anxious to be heard,
violently gasping, crashing whispers,
restless,
under moonlight,
corrupted hope,
of names last sung,
long ago.
#moon
#anxiety
#waves
#starlight
#moths
Written by
Mike Markes
Chicago
(Chicago)
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