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Insomnia MAG
I lie awake, kept so by
thecreaking silence
and the muffled yearnings
that hammer against mybrain.
A rush of
intertwined quivers
runs through me in
the fleetingbreath
of stolen solitude.
And the daylight lies
scrambled
on myfloor
as the echoes shy
from the sun.
© Anonymous
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Prose is like walking but poetry is like dancing.<br /> —Paul Valery, poet (1871 - 1945)