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These pieces move through a morning ether of pale string dawn: knight of coffee, bishop of grass, rooks of blonde bones sleeping in the slope-thicket. My heart eats a shock after knitting careful plans for weeks now. The metro train rattles and shines. The sun hides in castled cloud. Everything feels bigger than it is. They ask so much from me, I could never give that much. Still, the day is long. The complacent heart will learn and adjust. I still cherish you with all my psychology.
0
Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 10:23 AM UTC
These Pieces Move
These pieces move through a morning ether of pale string dawn: knight of coffee, bishop of grass, rooks of blonde bones sleeping in the slope-thicket. My heart eats a shock after knitting careful plans for weeks now. The metro train rattles and shines. The sun hides in castled cloud. Everything feels bigger than it is. They ask so much from me, I could never give that much. Still, the day is long. The complacent heart will learn and adjust. I still cherish you with all my psychology.
EvanS
Written by
46/M/DC
Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 10:23 AM UTC
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