Monday, May 15, 2006

a memory of a dream about reality

promises whispered
under bare trees
and full moons
are meaningless

hello
my name is

fire
shards of glass
scar the skies

i thought i knew you

dew
simply
clings to grass

a beat
under speckled leaves

a summer wind
changes everything

too bad
choirs don't sing at midnight
yeah, too bad

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