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Siesta in darknesss. The sunlight disappears to the clouds. I could wonder hazily from one step or street to the next yet feel unfurnished and empty. Walk through me. A bash to the shoulder and some books fall, I'm sorry. These magicians flutter past as I blink unthinking and there is the joy of the thoughts glittering: But I am tired, so, so tired.
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Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 3:58 AM UTC
Poem.
Siesta in darknesss. The sunlight disappears to the clouds. I could wonder hazily from one step or street to the next yet feel unfurnished and empty. Walk through me. A bash to the shoulder and some books fall, I'm sorry. These magicians flutter past as I blink unthinking and there is the joy of the thoughts glittering: But I am tired, so, so tired.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49001/ariel
tawandamulalu
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Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 3:58 AM UTC
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