Monday, 5 December 2011


Well good riddance, good night,
good luck, lucky one, held on to my pockets,
as the wood creaked, we were too much burden,
so uncertain, brains divided like curtains,
drawing rings with pebbles,
perfect circles scattered at random,
cutting up our reflection,
choking up in front of the mirror,
floating further, down a river,
charms tied with thin string,
you are a moon,
I am a boat,
you say the word,
you tell me where to float.

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