1443
4.347
14.xii.23
the dream clothes
days everything seems as if always
that ache so far still ours
a flourish
storm in the wall
by gripe some
or impersonation
silent height or swallow
we are gathered here to day
imagine for a first time
when all along
we, of the one dream, bent to
grey wraith
a presence
cursor glide
untouch
we were all there
I by you
our bright attire
forgetting
and in the sight of other and self
this place once part of another world
an angel cadence after
even up my own steps
truth for a duty to tell
the happy ending vanish
mind a trick of light
bright of a breeze and gone
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