"silhouette of our scenes"

once turned to black
feathers fall
three to a time,
a haunting of angels
gather closely
about your chains.
they chatter
with the memory
of screams
that pierced a moon
into stars which the
silhouette of our scenes
may now hang upon.

penned for Sahib
`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
28july11
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