Hour Two: Recommence

Recommence

 

We fell–

softly, deeply, an almost imperceptible fall–

But we wanted to and then

a landing

softly pinkish blue, fuzzy newness

surrounded by the micro, the minute

hush-a-bye, rock-a-bye, all-through-the-nigh

another, and another, and another

wrapped us up, lulled to fitful sleep

Until gone were the comparings of summer days

and wherefore art thous replaced by

me times, or

without you times

 

 

 

 

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