the ones we hear
the moons' silver thread
wired around the steps we plow
yours in my traces
between us in Japanese rooms
there lives a silence we invented
as the cracks in the wall became visisble
but you affect me still
and we set time to seek messages
the ones we hear as night comes to its end
Poetry by kath
Read 389 times
Written on 2007-01-25 at 08:17
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