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On life and its vagaries

When the nights die in your heart and not

with 4 comments

When a night goes and dies in your heart

It doesn’t bring the past back

Doesn’t whisper in strange languages

Doesn’t tweak or singe

You don’t spread any more,

There are no comings and goings

You freeze

And congeal into forgetfulness

Into oblivion

Something has sealed everything up

Leaving you somewhere sightless ……


But then when it’s hungry

It turns into lamia

Hunting in the realms unknown

Weaving desires into vortices

With tentacles ad infinitum

Filling you with phantasmal presences

Wooing you in her infernal wisdom

Back into the pits of the psyche

Proving to you

That the past would still be present in your future

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Written by Sam

January 26, 2010 at 7:50 am

4 Responses

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  1. i would kill to be able to write like you do.

    flightlessdove

    January 26, 2010 at 6:34 pm

  2. That couldn’t be true! You write very well too 🙂 All the same, thank you Laura!

    Sam

    January 27, 2010 at 9:34 am

  3. that is one beautiful poem.

    “Weaving desires into vortices
    With tentacles ad infinitum”

    i’m utterly speechless *smiles*

  4. Thank you, it is lovely of you to say so.

    Sam

    January 28, 2010 at 3:01 pm


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