O deep stone
Entrap me in your languid breadth
Close over my eyes a warm, starry cloak
A drifting boat, sidling away
From the diminishing day
A red wine swirl
A reality like bruised fruit
In its darkening bloom
The shudder of the turning world
Stops you
And your heart cries
And memories jab at you
Snatches of your elusive past.
© Daniel Lewis late 2006
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