Sooth say
A heavy stone skimming across a mill-pond. The sound of half a duck quacking.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Thoughts
Are cruel company
To the unsilent mind
Mocking the wind
That bears them
Like a child
With the cruelty
Of an honest lie
They lurk in bedroom closets
Behind suits hanging at their best
And pour moth-dust in the creases.
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