Liming Two

November 3, 2011

When all the houses have turned out their lights
and drawn up their curtains against the night.
When even the neighbours next door, have gone home,
switched off the base and hung up the phone.
When all of the pigeons have fallen asleep
and even the cooker’s begun to dream,
you can hear them, moving things, under the bed.
The words from the poems, that can’t be said.

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