"Striped Mesa" by Josette Urso
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Sleep
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Sleep.
Not to write it, but to remember
the sounds of their voices,
What do we take them for?
The impossible array of faces...
I had a dream last night
of all that I have lost,
of love, and of belief.
And who can dance to this music?
And who can banish it?
An arrangement of memories
lost, even in thought,
and around the edges of air
there is a faint singing, like a hiss,
a song for afternoon,
a conversation.
Marc Penka 2002
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