"...But to me the darkness was red-gold and crocus-coloured, With your brightness, And the words you whispered to me, Sprang up and flamed—orange torches against the rain. Torches against the wall of cool, silver rain!" ---Summer Rain, Amy Lowell
I'd like to climb into
The bottom shelf
Curl up and take deep
Breaths of flannel comfort
Sometimes I fall into the basement
And need to hold the ghost of you
So I read your books
And burn the candles, watching
The wax drip and pool
On your dresser
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