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haunted house
diamond standing
tip toes pointing
towards the sounds
of shifting ground
the youngest widow
thinks by a window
getting fall shivers
pretty indian giver
drowning in air
we ballet downstairs
a needle scratching out
the past aloud
this circadian rhythm
a dreamer's sleep potion
seeing old pictures
cut with rusty scissors
TV on with no humans
a jaded diamond
dancing by itself
on a dusty shelf
the sun blinks asleep
counting fire sheep
and the moon wounders how
we could forget him now
Sleep, and we may cry together
