Wednesday, November 11, 2009

My mornings with Arthur and his kind words

Everywhere the Aardvark slept,
the grinding of steely intestines
and metallic orbs
watching over us,
brought him restless nights,
though in the morning,
with a thin bead of light
shining through our window
he always smiled,
spoke of romantic dreams,
and drinking cups of
blackened coffee,
waited for the rapture
with me.

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