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Dreamscape
She sleeps swathed in a ribbon of black,
With cold lavender rain falling upon her and seeping through.
It pierces the thin membrane between fantasy and reality,
Swells as the thoughts do,
Finally bursts,
And floods:
Fanciful images rushing in an onslaught,
Fragments snatched up upon the feathery wings of dark
And strung together on strands of ideality.
The carcanet is pulled over,
And she descends wholly,
Violently,
Into the deep.
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