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Dec 2013
dreaming on this bed of you coming through the door leaping on me
but I'm alone in a basement with one window and a view of bare tree

there will be one flight of birds to cross the marsh over to the lake
where I used to go guppyin' as a kid to catch gifts nobody wanted

one bird is always behind
one flight too long
time too short

I love you
until alone becomes we.
Cripp
Written by
Cripp
392
 
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