orgami's Diaryland Diary

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chunk of rain

sleeves
the wayward breeze
like whitecap sentinels
rolling fast

there are tricks
of light
there are voices in the night
and fear like an oil
darkening the dark
this stain of doubt
Ive found out

meticulous seasoning
the words emit
like sparks like
pretty stars
and a sad little pout
and there I am
wound about
your finger
shinning like hope

1:10 a.m. - 2011-09-16

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