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Sep 2019
Your eyes, over breakfast, are where I find
my morning prayer to an unknown God. Thanking,
loving, and worshiping the divinity
reigning down on my head as small toes
wriggleΒ Β within my body.

My mind is overwhelmed with wound up
time, ticking, endlessly without ceasing
into the prism of your soft, searching soul.
Hands inside, hand outside β€” we find our solace
in you. A creator of the created, still both in womb.

Stopping time is your specialty
over breakfast, I see you β€” seeing me.
answering my prayer.
Written by
awknight  27/F/Hell
     Fawn and TheIdleOwl
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