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0416 (06/12/2022)
0416
the buds of late spring
open and tentative
unflex their pods
like prayers unseen.
they touch moonlight
brushing in the occident
like dreams,
fleeting moments where
the impossible is made real.
reminds me of someone that dies
every night; a real Cinderella story
that refuses to settle on an end.
instead, we recycle those old sores
instead, we recycle those old stories
...
Sunday 12th June 2022 11:42 pm
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