Look for Me At Night
By craig2
On a couch made of clouds like a mist in a dream it will come to you and you will hasten - in shoes made of dusk running you headlong into the dark, trampling unseen, out of control toward an intuition. Stars crisp against the black sky will melt the brown low clouds like butter so the wolf moon can point you to my ashes. Written August 24th, 2001 © on Jan 06 2002 02:07 AM PST 0 • 8
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"On a couch made of clouds..."