Page 11 - The_Lizard

Sporadically, during long summer nights,
mister Lizard interrupts my sleep with an oil lamp.

He shakes the dead flowers from his suit
and stealthily slips me paper and ink.

Excavates a space in my head
letting flee the blue figures
so desperate to run away.

Close your eyes and sing:
write from where your tears wait to escape
from the window of your mind.

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