John mc cann
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With Lonely Arms To Hold Me
With lonely arms to hold me still,
they fleece my artic body shaken
by wretched ice in drift that quivers in
my midnight window blur. The wind
flirtatious, rouses my face; a silk cloth
perched upon a whispered rite, melts upon my face.
I breathe in
the scented twilight chill and my
dreams stale, are whisked away in moonlight mix,
cast to the wind. As light ascends
I’ve seen this place, were the dreaded dawns seek me.
And the lonely moons that cave beneath
my eyes of copper beauty rage,
at all the strangeness settled in the walls...