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The Skeletonette In The Closet

Rating: 2.7

In the middle of my tomb
He appears.
I'd banished him...
I resurrect from my flooded coffin
Hell bent on
Forgiving, but-
My infant heart shatters as I realize
For the hundredth time that-

Like prisms held up to sunlight

Tears, too, can play cruel tricks at night.
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Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: lost love,lovers
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