Wierd

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sitting to write
i meet the blankness
of no words

talk radio drone
host, winding-up the callers –
clink of ice on glass

light trickles slowly
flowing from the glass
onto the floor ….

broken photograph
lying in a pool of glass –
sparkling shards of time

and blood drips
heavy from my finger
onto her face

blue topaz ear-rings
mock –
colour of her eyes

engulfed in crimson –
as red
as ever were her lips

and the brandy
still warm in my throat
burns my heart

ghost stir
rising to meet the darkness –
sleep crawls into mind

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