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time is sordid

I recall a storm
how wind and rain ripped red through the sky
I could not see
summer moaned bitterly in the garden
the black ugly smell of its death
like licking raw blood
like a rusted moon
you said:
let my shadow lie
but I was delirious
wanting you still
to rock beneath me
and whisper what you dreamed
Written by muffinpoodle
Published
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