Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Those Days

Slipping soundlessly

Entrenched

Doomed by predetermined moods

Complaisant by means that only the stillness of quiet can allow

Lightly jolted by the caresses of conveyance

Thoughts of silence ebbing throughout dulled lobes

Scenes of sedation

A disallowance of shared experience

Dark stains deepening
Spilt by light
Fermenting through age
To a hazy dim

Incandescent washes
leaving sweeping fragrances of warmth
Through softly chilled dew

Lids collapsing
Strained by consciousness

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