Silent revery came at night
on top of the mountain
in the arms of angels, a chill felt alight.
Short of memories fountain
in dark rooms in lifeless wings, twenty-nine
shelter the coat of white distraction.
That bungalow, weightless, reassigned
of a glow shine today
gathered lies that comfort ruins.
Does it make a difference of risque?
Will you sleep tonight in madness?
In the arms of angels comfort, sit of sadness.
In lifless wings she held twenty-nine,
and bungalowed in the air tonight,
those of stormed the winter interwined,
a bed of memories in the arc light.
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