Monday, July 13, 2009

A Position Towards The Edge of My Bed

It is the angle of my stare,
As I wait for the night to come to a close,
A glance to the left reveals bars of the shuffling dawn,
Fluttering through my curtains, until
I succumb to the sequenced arrangements
That have foretold the sequence of images,
Which will soon be shown to me by myself.



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