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The magic of the night Infected us with its darkness With the safety inherent in facelessness Secrets spilling carelessly Like precious gems Across a puddle of crimson velvet An easy comfort formed With the sharing of a thought and a hand- But where is it now in daylight? The blinding starkness seems To have stripped our friendship bare What was so solid and whole Has become the fleeting ghost of illusion Leaving me to wonder if it was ever real at all. 8/98 |
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All work © Copyright 2002-2007 Angela Gann unless otherwise noted. |
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