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maybe she shouldn't care
about the yet unread poem she wrote


her inner most fears displayed like a nude model on canvas
ready to be gawked upon
waiting for scrutiny, dissection


in view but out of reach
as he tucks it into his pocket


bared to him
dread settles into her bones


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nighttime sounds: an owl in a tree,
wind rustling the remaining leaves
gnarly branches,
black against the moon

the sweetest dreams,
taking residence in my heart

you & I
an impossible possibility
the sheets will not reveal my secrets


In silence

never would there evermore
a song upon a breeze
for music has forsaken us
went lost among the trees

now darkness has surrounded us
and vanquished all the light
in silence now we just await
the visitor in the night