

I Miss YouDay's jet hood cleft open by one dazzling solar blade, I almost hear the shimmering glassy sky In fragments, Bursting, shining, crashing, Through the brooding vaults of air. And so I go in search of rainbows.I Miss You
Throngs of ancient rushes weave the glaring rays, But the cold womb of cloud, Is barren, Glowering, grand, indifferent. I pace silent with the river, Whilst rain's sparks begin to gleam.
And there - from nothingness it rises as a memory, Mute but bellowing with iridescent joy In colors, Bright, keen, strange. A monument more vast


AtticPaper corpses in sagging plastic mausoleums, The vital salts of their words leeched out, Through roots of dust and cold.Attic
Oublietted clothes, forlorn now, past redemption. Sucked dry of color and sheen by Forgetfulness and veiny sunlight.
That one window shows nothing but brown clouds, In its fixed, cataracted stare. It has hinges, but no motivation.
Bare walls glisten with just the promise of damp. But it smells of weeping brick, And infirmed cardboard boxes that'll never walk again.
Even the spiders seem to have vacated at last. A decade
Tattered
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"Any sufficiently advanced vocabulary is indistinguishable from piffle"
Thank you once more!
--
"Any sufficiently advanced vocabulary is indistinguishable from piffle"
*gg*
Thank you!
--
"Any sufficiently advanced vocabulary is indistinguishable from piffle"
Thanks a lot!
--
"Any sufficiently advanced vocabulary is indistinguishable from piffle"
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