Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Window Moths

Moths come to my window to bounce and flutter
I want nothing that reminds me of pandemonium
Mimicry, is the echoed call, which distracts the future
I understand black and white; so let the colors run away
Never needed any brilliance to mark my path
Someplace in the folds of a jacket near a crumpled paper
Is quartz, which I will not find, until I am elsewhere

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