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Tags: love

Moonlight color me the night of deep sable
with stems of the acacia bearing thorns
in my dark imaginations of ghostwriters
dripping visions from the berries well

From my mind's gunny sack accusing the vermouth
rising the chills upon my pulsing chest
running the tallow as the moth's arabesque
fiddling the bow dressed in a tux

Silently falls the steps of shadows at my door
knocking at my sanctum in sheets of velour
pale as the loneliness of my abhor
enters my Elinor

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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