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Dec 2015
WORK IN PROGRESS - FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!! ;)
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On nights when the moon
Sheds herself of pretense
She speaks,
Reaches in,
Spins out thoughts
Like yarn, unraveling

Shows me what I keep
     What should never be spoken
Shows me what I dream
      What should never be seen

And I can almost feel
The cool touch of metal,
The warm after- blaze
Against my temple,
Of a ****** barrel
Giving birth to a silencing roar -
Pushing through
Emptying mind,
Thoughts splattered,
An abstract on my walls,

The things I keep
Dripping
Crimson
In her light.
William Alexander
Written by
William Alexander
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