Poetry

late at night

Late at night
With your voice in my ear
I tell you stories that never run out
Till you sleep and I sleep
Together, somehow, reaching out
For the empty side of the bed.
I’m a storyteller, your storyteller
Late at night

Kevin Crispin
What do you think is up to my right in the picture? A cob web? Probably a cob web. Or maybe it's my Beatles records on top of my air conditioner. It's certainly not fresh, new wainscoting.

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