encased in glass the ghosts weep
fine threads of crystalline grief
night disappears in extinguished caution
as their hearts beat out in echo's
outside the horizon lays still
unfurling inch by inch in glorious strokes
the rested sky becomes a canvass
for dawns alchemic fingers
leaves catch the light and illuminate
woken from the blackness of sleep
the flowers turn upwards seeking light
beginning their slow dance in the wind
the love in my heart is bruised
her smell still weeps memories
trapped in ornaments and clothing
like ghosts encased in glass
Monday, 8 June 2009
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