By Night

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By Night

By night
She is not alone
Alone to ply her pleasure trade
A trade that always promises the world
A world where that she can become part of
The Part of a world consisting of daylight and goodness
A goodness that spreads kindness and softness
A softness that she can sleep on
A sleep that has no dreams
No nightmares
By night



Wayne Smith © 2008

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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ksascubadiver’s Poems (4)

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By Night 0
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