Sunday, February 26, 2012

an odd innuendo

a song afar,near
the tree in the corner,
veining shades of brains
on the window,
past the willow,
splits a different clue ,
a tedium tuned in to blue;
hushed hums grope,
too nervous to drop
the end that,gathers ,
waits,till the night withers
the leaves to fall on unpaved ways;
compel gasping dreams to ramble
below an unhinged moon,
laden with a lunatic's
oblique meanderings,
black and blurred ,
bespeaking the cloned pretense
of my love,
indistinct as nightlight
flown out of the window
past the willow,
near that tree in the corner.
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