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It's Cold. It Feels Like Independence Day.
And I Can't Break Away From This Parade.
Gypsy Gemini {a poem} 
10/08/07 10:23 pm
Cool blues
The rain gathered in tiny jars,
the ocean's everyday song,
his hands along the cellar walls.
She is sapphire
Eyes heavy like smoke
burning their fire to create
ashy nothings which fuel the music.
Dreams gathered in seams
Folded like paper cranes
in the blue atmosphere.
She is not alone.
Sisters dance in the moonlight,
their celestial fire haunting midnight.
Aquamarine and alice
the goddess waits by her madness.
Diamonds pool around the dust
of her gray eyes.
Sisters chime their serenade
gazing at life's tricky hand.
The royal fog of cloudy days
exposes blue dances
which crown their mermaid figures.
Forever gypsy hymns
Chime through our perception.

-Brittany.
Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent. © BNN