Let the still of night
freeze over memories that
paint their love between lines,
Out of fear that
they will remain forgotten forever,

Trapped images of points
that lit up in sparks
and glowed,
Until warmth faded with open air,

Smeared canvas
of dark and frost and
voices that plotted rebellion,
in cartographer’s ear,
so paths may lead from
a haunting past,

Followed by demonic howls,
Carrying the winds,
and desert sand beyond horizons,
In aspiration borrowed from
coversation carved in mud wall
and stones laid for road,

Worn by the feet that
called out the void.



So, what do you think?

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