Angel clay by Timothy WilsonSilence falls upon the night
I can't sleep throu all the drowning thoughts
of her
resting so angelicupon a cloud from my dreams
so hard to see
such a pure and beautiful light
looking upon me
in such contrasting perception
to see the same
she can't see me with eyes of water
that make the fountain of youth
look impure
And she can't smell me through the angel clay
but I fold my hands
when giving into being baffled
like a slinder green bug
in grattitude for being settled for 03/20/2009 Posted on 03/20/2009 Copyright © 2025 Timothy Wilson
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