Sometimes
When the work is done
The evening tucks away the day
Lullabies to the sun
Darkness spreads like a duvet
Over a terrafirma mattress
I say goodnight to my fight
Between the faith and the actress
And the moon is a screen
For the slide projectors
Lying in the dark, in the quiet,
Where there are no protectors
And memories harp on in sharp form
And years burn like papercuts
Nothing negates the good,
But it hurts anyway.
viewingcamelot 
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