Number 4

May 6, 2010
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An unpolished gold.
A deep sting of musk,
A shock of blue.
Soft breezes from far away
Carrying promises
I made to myself.

A pain from within is
Changed to simple breath, life
In the impossible beauty of now.

Thoughts of the future,
The past.
Appreciation for the eternal present.
Filigree stars strung above in signs, whispering once-upon-a-times,
Clouding my sleep.

The early sky painted in peaceful wisps of clouds,
Scratched with song,
Littered with dreams, cast
Into the never-ending glass so that the mind is clear.

And I
Alone in myself become
Swept away, undone.

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