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11 June 2010 @ 05:23 pm
Thief in the Cloud  
Gifts of years for the girl in the window;
given through the roses heat:
something warmer for her widow,
by ashy glass clouds until they meet.
Rubbing through the rain,
whispers in the storm,
a kiss comes to the windowpane,
a daughter's body torn.
korinacaffeine on June 12th, 2010 12:18 pm (UTC)
I still say it's about a funeral.

(btw i'm jealous of you for being able to write such good poems!)