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Aug 2016

the grass in the meadows
has grown high,
it melts like an emerald
sea under the sun.


summer stretches
robotic and angular
everything larger than life
sunshine and the childish rains
pouring stormy drops
on the window.


the sky is perfectly white
the cloud is an unbroken
line, no dots or dashs,
no hyphens or metaphors.


i dress in the morning and
undress at night let the
pools of the night tether me
to the sky.
written a couple of weeks ago
beth fwoah dream stclair
Written by
beth fwoah dream stclair  England
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