Thursday, April 03, 2008

The sun set like a collapsing pavalova
Shadows fled to coming night
Stretching tendrilled fingers
Snails pressing for the finish line
I was bathing in liquid colour
The effervescent blood of a hemoraging day
Brushed clean by the feather-strokes of waking moths
Still dizzy from day spent abed
Somehow I am relaxed
As stars wink their way into existance
And the moon races to catch up
Somehow I know
He will never give up trying
And never succeed,

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