Friday, 17 October 2008

Poetry, late, medium wave

Listening in the dark, old style. Finely-tuned, until static crimped the heavy clouds and a white tailed storm lashed in. And somewhere between the live concert and the late night reading, I lost my fraying hold on the world and you whispered right into the flood of my dreams, with slow liquid words and strange spells of intoxicating voice. Against the roar and splutter of the cracked night, I kept watch on the skies with unopened eyes.

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Busy weekend coming up, so will be having a short break from posting. Back soon, Sx