I can see
those round faces
of elusive elves
merry making the skies
like a glow worm
Some hidden worth of
dark night
gets a blink;
the pure essence
through her florescent light
Drunk with passion
She owes
a murmur
to my heart
More silent than the night
I can see
In an open space
The worth of happenings
that gets its due
As I surf my dreams
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