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My house was dark
Alone I ran out of dreams
Fell off the mountain,
Flew away over cities,
Had an affair
The quartered moon poker-red
Burned into the darker depths,
Beyond the Blame.
On this side of sleep
I lie down on my fuzzy white coat
Reading Castaneda
Until the fog filling the canyon looks green.
If it were water
I could swim to another place,
I need to see things differently.
I can't be you, Mama,
Drowning in the berry patch
In the middle years.
Something is dying
Let me out! |