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Jan 2021
I do not know
the winters of your soul
or how your dog barks
at the end of a long night
on your return

I wish I did

I do not know what dawn looks like
to you
or if it has yet risen
The thin rays do not reach this far down
in the long grass

I only know
the beauty of the world under your gaze
and the weight of the crack that will form
when it goes
Written by
Ingrid Murphy  54/F/Bristol UK
(54/F/Bristol UK)   
153
     anna and Galina
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