The Girl
by james bezerra
The Girl in my bed
is breathing quite softly now
and dreaming dreams of moths.
Those slight gray butterflies
who’d be so beautiful in a world
of black and white.
The Girl in my bed
is breathing so softly now
her dreams aglow with pale light.
Her moths like clouds around a sun
circling and circling, but nothing to be done.
The Girl in my bed
is breathing slow and softly now
her dreams all flutter
and glow.
The Girl in my bed
is breathing very softly now
to slow the beating wings
The Girl in my bed
is breathing softly now.
The Girl in my bed.
.
.
.
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