Lovers Graveyard
Melt into existence
Coverings the distance
Between the past and present
Where space so black
Is sucking hole's beneath the fabric
The spinning cycle on a washing machine
Can never clean or drown out the scent
Of banished lovers who cloud the night
With semaphores and silken glove's
Signaling to car alarms and shepherds horns
Come and claim the higher ground
On which to place the sacred stones
Of fields of Athernry and lovers lost graveyards
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