Silent Night ( when the violin prayed )

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On my way home

he was standing there

at the edge of the room

of vision lore

a great mysterious appearing door

not known to exist before .

I shut my eyes tight

the sun struck the sepia shore

life held so safely

by curtains of doves

fluttering above

like echoes ” this is all for you ” more .

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Her feet he held

bared on the quiet site

upon placed winged slippers of white

she was paralyzed, no sound

God , are you watching what we do ?

the graveyard appeared by a stream

the dragonfly skimming blue wings

ripples moved the shocked world

in weavings calm

and her feet left the ground

He was standing there

at the edge of the room

on my way home.

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The light was naked , neon

the taste  , blood pudding

the smell of sugarcane and mud

the dilemma of drums

a forest filled with sleeping bugs .

He stood there

at the edge of the room

on my way home .