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winter (1)

i weave dreams in the dying light
intoxicated by foreign perspectives,
illuminated by shifting horizons,
and the dripping silver night.
the seasons spread angularly around me. it’s september now,
and the words i’ve been crafting grow more intricate, more cautious
i hope they cling to you.

 

 

(it is my intention to post something every day here for a month. we shall see what happens!)

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