Guess you better step, the dry leaves rustling
between glances sideways
downplayed them,
to bed when they are lost, caught
hand our complicity.
guess.
That night the reality of our silence, morning sleep
is our memories,
to leave the door ajar to make
ghosts creep, no letter of access.
guess:
because I remember sitting today, forget the black
with an alarm clock, I do not care
the gasps of the moons
and yes the sweet clarity of our routines
carefree.
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