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Aug 2023
we all sleep.
like the shadows of leaves creep onto the forest floor, and then leave.
it all breathes in, then out,
like the light, who likes to crawl about
the trees, then the ground.
it is painting on a sculpture.
but the sculpture is already done.
it is those sculptures of the sun
who cant help but run.
and they run and they run and theyre
just like day one.
Written by
mike
17
 
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