From:   crispleaves (Original Message) | Sent: 5/23/2007 7:34 PM |
There's milk bubbling, a hot chocolate drink
before he climbs the wooden hill and gran
unlocks the clock with a bedtime story.
There's black beetles scuttling across his mind,
pulling tight the eyelid shutters. Beneath
the stairs he hides with care her rocking chair. |
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