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Stretched out on the surface
of your sleeping light
under the disguise
of finiteness of a sloping ceiling
knots and geometries
of living silken and undone
the mysterious future is our ocean
and we skim its waves
with our queen bed
and its sheets as cool as summer
the stars crashing into the deep blue
to conceive siren souls
and redemption songs
and precious chances to beckon
to the night
to nature’s call
to the tamed madness of dreaming
and a coming home.

image source (photographer unknown)


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