Footsteps In the Corridor
the scent of lavender on the dew
through cascading rolling mountains of joy
surface through the moon in the tender month of June
we have been this way before
alone
footsteps in the corridor
out on the patio a black cat
the smell of fresh paint permeates my inner senses
faces
traces of lime in my beer
a rip torn onto its heightened view
shadows block the vortex of the eye
shaped through the dreams in her hair my pretty child
choose the day
the night was far spent in calamity
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