Friday, May 29, 2009

Elise Fleishman, untitled

Intertwined ivy completely fused
standing abused
often warned about the dangers
those midnight strangers

When the darkest shadow overhangs
we cry in anguish
through the air only
can we liberate the lonely

To take the edge off
to dig out of the trough
to paste the pieces
relief the creases

Beauty of the dark
is the night song

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