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dust in my mouth, wind

blowing wild on my face

dry april showers

I think I liked your

old face better, can you wear

them both, let me choose?

my office doesn't

have any windows, but I

can feel sun outside

uncertainty waits

impatient, twitching and mad

while hope gathers dust

mornings are still cool

summer hunches before me

grasshoppers in air

one more storm rolls in

dust, sunspots, UV warnings

I'll just wait for night

morning, hazy air

dim sunrise greets me at ten

damn fucking daystar

tiniest of squeaks

then the sweetest sound, soft breath

settling into sleep

green glass shards in lead

painted faces, sun behind

radiance refracts

flame unrecognized

name unchanged but remembered

orange-fingered sun

a blue veil, clean feet,

a hundred thousand titles

stars fading from sight

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