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A poem is never finished, only abandoned.
Tuesday, 22 November 2005

star light, star bright
first star i see tonight
please grant me my heart's deepest desires
its cold here in the dusk
the wind tripping along
my tantalized senses
falling among the trenches
of the same old sickly skin

as my skin raises
and my body convulses
by the chills of the night
i slip away and dance
among the stars
which drive themselves
into my naive soul
listen to the night
the immortal whispers
which tread through my mind
dangling me above the parched ground
suspended between two worlds
the plane of my face brilliant with light
incandesent with longing to be alone
alone in the solitude of my mind

Posted by art3/manon at 5:42 PM EST
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