Drawn Drapes
black skyclay mask
feral rain
ask why
don't ask
then again
pale fingers
silent scent
night caress
light lingers
in the vent
of her dress
thought escapes
through the trees
secrets kept
draw the drapes
over seas
while we wept
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2015-01-04 at 19:34
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