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Feb 22
I want to keep all of the words
that find me in wonder and fear.

Spectral fingers reach for mine
but slip through my hand into the dark.
I fascinate from afar
as night pulls away their billowing skin
and wipes away their misty faces.

Ghosts ahuddle on an ivied bridge
poised in pearl-white robes.
Empty eyes and trembling hands
brush through the stream invisibly;
nothing to touch, no one to see.

Pebbles stare back as ripples unfold
into reflections of the weak and cold.
Written by
Dylan  26/M
(26/M)   
603
   T R Wingfield
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