321 – Midnight stroll

Black sun,
Water moon,
Iron faeries dancing
In the fire.

This can’t be right.

Aluminum grass
Swaying in the wind,
Blowing tiny birds of smoke
Into the night.

This can’t be happening.

Crowns of bloody ice
Sensuously melting
Into sad songs
Of awe.

This can’t be real.

Silent footsteps
Gliding over
And visions.

The forgotten art
Of sleepwalking.

• • •

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