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Weymouth Street

buried beneath warm feathered blankets in the rust tinted morning glow,

two exhausted soft breathing still bodies lie next to me fast asleep,

I awake.

5:40 AM.

the clement essence of worn clothing and moth eaten Sage daintily flow,

unharmed.

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Written by

amandajean-kinney

Published: Jun 16, 2010
LinesWords: 640

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