The feeling stirred
by dawn
sliding through a
dirty window
is our
everything.
The longing to bathe
in fluid light,
to swim
in gold poured
from a fortunately
broken sun:
that’s the hope
carrying us all
through
cold,
through dark.
The feeling stirred
by dawn
sliding through a
dirty window
is our
everything.
The longing to bathe
in fluid light,
to swim
in gold poured
from a fortunately
broken sun:
that’s the hope
carrying us all
through
cold,
through dark.
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