Saturday, June 21, 2008

Moulin Rouge

Grey figures on landing, odd angles on sight.
White letters on listening, odd exchanges of night.
Green numbers still holding, even in the light,
pastel glow from the orbs, even if not bright.
Colored painted lady I, a dream to catch the wandering eye.
Fashioned fashion after a fashion, a figure that figures.
The words bled together long ago, and now the movements do so.

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