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Show >^c Nocturne: for Sue I have left your bed quietly so you will not awaken to wonder why I traverse the waxed oak floor to enter the unpeopled night and walk barefoot on the cool stones still wet from the rain's passage. Plunged in darkness rushing bank-full, I trail aching hands in the foam of silence, between weary houses ballasted by unlit windows, anchored by the ragged shadows of trees, cages for the wayward eyeless dreams of families in the orphanage of sleep. Those few of us who rise at hours when we should be covered, concealed from the cat-gaze of clouds, wear the waking visage as a mask and a thin disguise, the half-seen untouched form of our flesh as clue in the pre-dawn, when we can pose no world between ourselves and the world. |