Old ghosts teem amid the fireflies and dim time
stumbles through the variegated dusk, with
glowing plums, how they burden in the dark
those limbs in twisted slumber, threading the
canopy of shadows that embrace the sharp
features of failing day, the oblivious regions of
the end of games that every fate has known
since birth, since breath drew the tongue-
a meaningful word
from meaningless
air.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
Old ghosts teem amid the fireflies and dim time
stumbles through the variegated dusk, with
glowing plums, how they burden in the dark
those limbs in twisted slumber, threading the
canopy of shadows that embrace the sharp
features of failing day, the oblivious regions of
the end of games that every fate has known
since birth, since breath drew the tongue-
a meaningful word
from meaningless
air.
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