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Fog is hugging me blind and sweet today
And a finch calls out from beyond the trees.
Love’s collecting on the windowsill gray,
And the sun peaking out is such a tease.
Time steadfast, navy blue washes over
So that the moon can take on full presence.
Speckles of bright white float out like kosher.
I number my days here by half crescents.
If my eyes lull, the meteors shower
Like they did nearly seven years ago.
In that place where sweet things turned from sour,
I feel my wavelength hit heavy plateau.
May I never run away from myself.
May I run back onto the balcony.
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