Heavy eyelids, battered, bruised & purple
pleated,
Waltzing down cold corridors, towards wolves
howling,
Dancing in her midnight gown, of soft velvet
moonlight,
Mantled in her lacy shawl, of sparking diamonded
stars,
Somnolence her soft nature, insomnia her sleepy
name,
With owl upon her shoulder & cool dew beneath
her feet,
She tiptoes into ticking seconds, into minutes
& long hours,
Treading softly upon the hem, of the whispering
satin dawn.
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