tears of the night
drop into the
morning
light not yet
broken
silence no yet
unveiled
but morning here
suspending sleep
and
all that
indulgences
me into it, is
now
forgotten and
wait
we do for the
light
and the insight
bringing us
freshly
unglued thoughts
by which to form
our morning word
waiting is
desperate
corners to be
seen
or noticed but
wishing
to be spoken to.
19May16
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