Thursday, January 13, 2011

Insomnia


                                    Rain,

your soft footsteps crossed the thin
threshold of my sleep and we danced
like old lovers  celebrating
the wreckage of our bond
                        two gray creatures
your filigree of movement stippling
my rounded stone
and we danced
featherless in the hovering sunless air
covered in your cold canorous tears
your song that flows over
                        and into all bodies
that stirs the silt of dreams.

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