in my silver room
cobwebs stretch across the moon
and catch dusty stars in
awnings blue
moonbeams slip winding through
snow-flaked panes and jasmine blooms
yawning white turned
collar blue
the slivered night that sordid croons
wide-eyed owls turn and hoot
at leaping sheep in
blankets blue
black parts still in my room
gives way to silver of the moon
a crescent hand, paints my hours
longing blue
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