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May 2014
Laying in the dark,
I feel the spring breeze
blow through the pine trees,
as the dogs bark.
The coyotes sing their
songs to the moon.

This moment wants
to keep me from the morning
waking hours.

Humid May,
humor me more.

I speak less,
and drown within the hustle.
Hide behind every other
person as possible.
Distant.
petuniawhiskey
Written by
petuniawhiskey
476
   r, ---, G H Goodland, Curtis and ---
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