Night Barking

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Poetry
Stretch out your hands,
Caress the book covers,
Savor their titles,
Enjoy their pensive skin.

Don’t fear fun
Embrace the wonder
Of those sad stories that
You almost dreamed.

Yellowed pages,
Dog-eared chapters.
The words
You didn’t write
Are truly yours.

Like black magic
Ink disappears.

With empty lungs, I bark,
And I bow to the writer
From the resolute wisdom
Of the starry desert.

Like black magic
Ink disappears.

These are the books
you should have written.
Your travel companions
To the afterlife.

This very barking night.

The Author

Woman. Floaty. Attached. Dettached. Sudden. Note-scribbler. Citizen of the world. Travelling to the moon and back.

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