the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Sharp Victory

My voices was afraid of the angelic heights
When you wanted to play the whiter keys.
I said you'd have to believe in a quieter me,
But my own shaking disbelief would vibrato just right.
In the highest frequencies of visible light,
You could let your muscles not hold you so tightly.
"Goodnight," you would tell your benevolent sky
Knowing those sheets would steady your flight.

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