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Piena Di Latte

By January 16, 2012January 22nd, 2016Writing

Off-white as undiluted milk,
the sun’s light dies out.
It fades to drowned
porcelain blue, caressing
the edge of things
out of existence,
until ‘things’ becomes ‘thing’,
until light squeaks
and is gone,
stoppered like smoke
in sunk night.

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