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Twilight To Starlight MAG
The clear, cold air of the early twilight drifts from the dark blue,
Deep, wrinkled ocean to her cottage
Down the pebbled, rumbling road and stings
Her as she steps onto the old, splintered, creaking white porch
The blazing yellow rooster of the sky peers cautiously over
The blade-sharp horizon; she wonders if he, too,
Is anxious about the day
She exits the steam-filled bathroom and feels her hair,
Once soaked with hot water, turn as cold as the Arctic
As the water drips off the soft fuzziness of her robe, she marvels
At its immortality
As she lies on the beach she feels the hot sand under her feet
The sun pulsates a scattered array of thoughts through her
Toasting body as intense and deep as the colors
Rushing by behind her tightly-shut eyelids
Her spirit is as tranquil as the icy waters which
Surround her, pulling her in to the addiction of their flooded world
She is entirely enveloped and a surge of cold confronts her sharp blue eyes
She retrieves a calmly floating starfish and examines it closely, thinking it must
Feel as helpless in her hand as she does in the vast ocean
A ray of noonday sun outstretches through the window
To cover an unopened package lying on the kitchen table
Quick footsteps are heard and a feeling of panic diverts her movements
Away from the package; its contents are to forever remain a secret
The sparkle of her diamonds catch the attention of one fleeting thought as
She stares down at the photograph; it is just a fragment of the many memories dancing
In her mind to the same music she heard that night
The dying light casts a shadow across her face,
A concert of harsh words perceived
Wrap a blackness around her desolate soul
As the wind conducts a symphony of leaves and petals and sand
And the air outside begins to chill
A sudden spark of warmth appears as she spots her only love approaching;
Her heart explodes like a firecracker on the Fourth of July and love pours in
She gazes down at his hand in hers; she feels his passion and
Adulation for her channel through his long fingers
The paths running across their palms lead to each other
And tell the stories of many a love and many a life
The stars are innumerable through
Her thick, black, mascara-coated lashes
An incandescent moon is seen
In the dark blue silk of her dress
The flecks of color in her eyes as she stares up
At the frosty sky seem like tiny universes
The darkness is filled with the gentle crash of the waves and
The revolving illumination from the lighthouse
Every rush of coolness over her feet brings a deeper sense of serenity
She pulls the blanket of black and white cotton over her
It is accompanied by comfort and warmth
And as she exhales the golden glow of the candle
Disappears and the thickness of the blanket
Of the night sky, too, covers her
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