6.04.2012

Curfew

it is addressed thusly:
A thought.
it reads:
My eye does keep expecting to see
In half sleep, a felicity
Around a door, an unknown light
Across the moor, a faerie wight
Down the hall, a shadowed man
Through the wall, a grasping hand
Though angels unseen vigils keep,
My imagination! When does it sleep?

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