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What beauty there is in the death of a moonlit bed.
It lights afire with the glow of the sun, catching the very flames and making them surrendure to itís will. Shapes of devils swirl in the dawn air.
Another blue water day.
Clouds are scarce.
Clouds are the allie not comeing to the rescue.
His eyes are burning blue and odd green.
Mixed glass watching me, one blindly.
The sun reflects on his snowwhite tan.
His hair burns like dirty gold fire.
He is silent now, but he has a voice that shakes the Hevans to their foundations.
Angels sing as he smiles at me.
Bursting suns warm the cold heart of mine.
Lava flows as blood once did.
He moves the stars only for me.
Fingersí traceing the blood red cotton, then fold on a chest of ivory.
Let the leaves shake in anticipation, not me.
Let me give in to what the emotion is telling me.
Let me believe,
at least for a moment,
that this isnít just a daydream.
*Tell me what you think. Tell me if you know who I've been daydreaming about lately.*
"Dream the crow black dream."