In My Sky at Twilight

In my sky at twilight
her face emerges from darkness.

How soft the cold air of night
touches with longing dreams,

I follow their beck and call,
hands outstretched and open.

Distance and shivering stars
hold on to the delicate curves.

Fingers whisper their yearning
to the wind, passing slow.

In my sky at twilight
her face emerges from darkness,

as it surrounds, and soothes
with ancient, ancient feeling.

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