Friday, November 6, 2009

Drive In Car Lump In Throat

Crystalline dark Cradle and bed waiting

What separates me from the stars?
looked sharp,
a sharp glass.
blasting, black.

What else can I do if not all of them
see in the reflection of the sun, moon,
light, imagining them in black

deep of your eyes? In the dark crystal

I remained at least the dream
to see you and touch.

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