In Between Spaces

June 28, 2012
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One woman leaves
a secret tucked
away in her purse:
how her voice touches
the dark
moon through blackness.

A young embrace is broken,
man is devouring nothing
lust lingers, a familiar
rhythm flickers on
his fingertips.

Fireflies, like
broken neon, yellow lights
lost, strain to light
the path. Trees illuminated
blinking in and out,
it seems darker with stars close.

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