1620
5.159
7.vi.24
how often far
with sleep
aubade
and
tether ending till
we’re
left
brittle,
thrilled with
run
to dust
town
an ache in the all abandoned
slept
as far as
dreamt
until
bright
spires
the
stillness unsaid
tune
seeping
from
a sky
licked
still
tiptoe on wits
dream
and you’re there
there’s
no delay
dawn
parts the heart
day
lapping at these paws
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