When Darkness Slips

Each night

When darkness slips

When bone and flesh

Begin to ache

The land beyond

The glass

Beyond the face

Of Time

Summons our altered


To travel

To that place

Where dreams sit and wait

Like trains

To take us on those nightly


Create those other stores

But forgotten come

The morning

Yet, will linger…

Then manifest in days

Or years to follow

When memory won’t remember

Thatcher Doran

About pmisteil

Hi, my name is Paul though I write under other names like, Thatcher and Paolo, I love literature, art and architecture their passion and drama....the contradictions. The notion of Truth-who is the person behind the mask? Or does it matter! I like long walks and longer conversations over cappuccinos in a cafe with atmosphere and the rest is a journey!
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