Saturday 21 January 2012

For The Light Doesn't Shine

supine
dead moth trapped
in the lantern room’s
aseptic fulgor

overwrought
words
too long
thought
turned prosaic
alone in this
infested station

here where I lay
my mind to rest
blowfly fresh
a torrefied
shadowy macula

that lamp now eclipsed
my stark umbra
chalks the hills
black smudged
“memoria in aeterna”

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