Words in a Vacuum

 

 

Sometimes I require the gentle quietude of an evening.

A moment of solace.

A poem.

Sometimes I require the soft pulling of blades of a ceiling fan

Draping me in the midnight silk of night,

Away from the chaotic pulling of others thoughts,

Fleeting,

Fickle,

Feckless.

 

 

*Painting: “Luna” — Sir Edward Burne-Jones

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