2009 piece to an undetermined (or unrevealed) inspiration.
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Flashes
of light.
The night passes
uneventfully for most,
trapped between life and death
for threescore and ten
on the average.
But I
am not
looking for the
average life and death
having seen you pass
in flashes of light.
Crimson,
your lips.
Colours blossom
in fantasies you create
like a goddess of desire
who will feed on me
and my graven prayers.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.