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eeriewisdom Oct 2015
I'm baffled by her artwork way
the painter be my maker may
her beauty shades of indigo
I feel her pulse on my soul sew
a dreamer may I be but now
for when I sleep a golden bough
I see her there on waking line
and when I'm here, her pulse beats mine
we live amalgam, mulling full
...albeit ephemeral;
the chasms full of cosmic care
day calls the light, I hold her there
don't come for me, stay resting sun
for when I wake, I breathe love none
and strangers act we truly be
you true reside thus dreams don me
-must be someone else

— The End —