Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Propheteer

Within map lost
and without
no home
but home what home

Port Passage grant
me the silver bell;
one of the glimmering set.

A door is opened, room revealed
a mattress of corn husks
a pillow of fur
a cup, full yet with
still-warm petals, still

So take me to the diorama
Bring me
To waltz under full
halogen moon
full halo of a moon
Stalled memory
of my favorite melody
or was it tune
Just can't recall
I don't collect, recollect, collect
collect

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