December 15, 2013
I sleep,
Deep in waters of tepid night.
Silver sliver of a moon drips
into milky darkness.
White as fairy sliver.
Her dress apiece of night air.
Each stitch a star
to wish upon,
when sun is gone.
Night a monster’s claw
to pry open children’s minds
and torment them with twisted dreams.
Each star a stitch of time,
a string to play a lullaby
to drift me off on
boat’s white sails.
Till morning when I wake
to wilted wings of firefly on windowsill.
Her light misplaced by rays of sun.
By night, open window to sky,
She will fly.
A candle on the water.

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