Before sleep


Dim definitions of see through-ness
whirl to the sound of rainbows over cities
in the wee hours of getting close.

Indigested ceremonies of division
plunge personal scopes into revision
talking nonsense by the window.

The closure of flickering loss
wounds the ticking soul
minutes before the clear sky.




Poetry by Bob
Read 653 times
Written on 2006-03-17 at 22:11

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Zoya Zaidi
"The closure of flickering loss
wounds the ticking soul
minutes before the clear sky."

This kind of hits me!

Very beautifully expressed!
As usaul!

(((((Hugs Ben)))))

Love, xxx, Zoya
2006-03-18