spilt thoughts

The Night Table.

The moon; milky white and pastel,
shines out into the black space.

thoughts are dancing again, through my mind; i know
you are somewhere amongst the lights and the
bending branches of wind stricken trees.

loose limbed in a half slumber, exhausted from life long compression;
waiting for the decompression of deep sleep and your pale, soft skin against
my middle.

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