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don’t leave me with weathered skin
pulled tight against the blank cold
in the pit of winter night
I’m still singing still singing
tunes to the moon that pour from
my lips rivers of dark glass
flowing back to the portal
the music still shimmers here
the music still glimmers here
don’t leave me in the vacant
dark the slow crowding silence

(Words and images Copyright 2013 by Michael Kallstrom)

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