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 Jan 2019 Ian Robinson
caroline
if ideas are lightbulbs,
my house is dark.
if ideas are fires,
mine has lost a spark.
if ideas are paintings,
my canvas is blank.
if ideas are boats,
mine just sank.
A spritz
of crimson rose
a lover who
leaves me
wandering
on
tingling toes
dire dreams
he unravels
my seams
He loves me
dearly
or so it seems
i’m being sentimental...
                                            ...but i still
                                               miss you
i am the moon and you are the sun
the light you see in me
is simply the reflection
of the light in you
 Jan 2019 Ian Robinson
Calliope
What has happened here?
Why is everything broken?
Who have we become?
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