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in between days, one less morning, less years. heart slows a rhythm, our rooster caws thrice. the first ambulance beats me to my ears. apneas and dry-mouth, some water with ice. my feet skipping at the smell of coffee, our baby laughs at my wife's dawn charades; soapy pans clanking, speakers play Croce, whisks and eggs to scramble, potatoes on parade. the food was good but i feel sick with the rooster and the siren calling me back to bed with the smell of a candle wick, dawning my day clothes i feel like bawling. a bottle saved for later, when there's time. doing the things we want once we find them.
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Nov 29, 2025
Nov 29, 2025 at 9:00 AM UTC
morning routine
in between days, one less morning, less years. heart slows a rhythm, our rooster caws thrice. the first ambulance beats me to my ears. apneas and dry-mouth, some water with ice. my feet skipping at the smell of coffee, our baby laughs at my wife's dawn charades; soapy pans clanking, speakers play Croce, whisks and eggs to scramble, potatoes on parade. the food was good but i feel sick with the rooster and the siren calling me back to bed with the smell of a candle wick, dawning my day clothes i feel like bawling. a bottle saved for later, when there's time. doing the things we want once we find them.
RobertZorro
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Nov 29, 2025
Nov 29, 2025 at 9:00 AM UTC
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