June 6, 2012
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When it gets quiet enough
So that I can hear crickets chirping
In the soul
That lies under your paper-thin complexion
I dream that someday
When I’m fast asleep
A cricket
Or two
Will jump into my whirring head
And calm the constant buzzing with the sounds of an oncoming night
Oh my love, that star map was lost beneath the roaring waves
Of our ship wreck
A failed fragile freight
One that was destined to sail through miles of savage sea
Then stop at one last port
To eye the faces of a tentative couple
Hand in hand
Chirping souls
Bobbing in and out of view
Over the chaotic masses of hundreds of goods being loaded onto
The ethereal landing above

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