Your eyes were closed
as the sighing traffic
tumbled by below my window
and from where I lay
beneath the golden shroud
of your hair I did not fear
the icy cold nor the chaos
even as my lips
quivered under yours
and the bronze bell rang
and the tablets fell in pieces
and the proud thunder applauded
the torrent of my tears,
rising like the tide and
reminding me that
I am yet nothing
but a child
3 December 2010
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