burning with castles and bull fights
and rolled out time naan
and dali's preoccupation with death....
it is stormy
and my mind flies to Erskine and Erin
I open my windows
as I sip my ginger tea
It is nights like these
when you shriek my name
with a twin vengeance
and feeling
midnight
it is never quiet
though you cant hear a thing...
nor the rustling leaves in southerlies
the piano plays to the virgin
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