Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Your Falsetto Voice

All those strained, falsetto voices,
I can hear them through
the mile-thick shadows;
they are creeping up
upon the moon;
they are wailing "Love me!"
in a howling, sickly wind.

The moon,
the silver light, the
darkness enroaching upon it; I
can hear all these things along with falsetto voices

that makes me wonder why I'm writing this poem.

I want
to hear
a silver bell,
a silver bell,
a silver bell

of clarity.

I wish
that your falsetto voice
could not be heard tonight,

so that I may sleep
and dream.

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