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read me like a book
you turn a page
and my emotions
are drawn
like air at the damper
of the furnace

caught up you dont look
and I can see your eyes
the colours against
the dark pupils

outside the snow is falling
through the sun
hidden and transparent
there are cars at the

I remember then
but not now

you havent read that

and I smile
and you look up

Editing stage: 


we had the old antennae on the roof
and the set would only pick up the station
without sound sometimes
signal and all that

so one would watch CBC or whatnot
drama with no voices
just the static
and I felt this way

of being unable to say what
could possibly be conjured

now its a history
filled with ghost voices
and phrases half caught
like sleeping on the train
and dreaming

author comment

about as far from broken static as it gets. Whoever inspired this is a lucky person..............scribbler

so many kinds of love
I never considered it to
be serious

heart of hearts I know


author comment
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