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The cool air slips Through the morning window Rests its hand On my warm neck And passes on Here the deep Longing begins That comes  with spring The unbearable pull That is the teasing echo Of footsteps Walking into mist Always receding Never reached Is it the reverberation Of an unknown guilt? That, like peeling bells Cupped to an ear Die across a meadow He is forever on the horizon A perfect and endless Breaking dawn Of grief and joy
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Jun 29, 2024
Jun 29, 2024 at 6:21 AM UTC
Bells
The cool air slips Through the morning window Rests its hand On my warm neck And passes on Here the deep Longing begins That comes  with spring The unbearable pull That is the teasing echo Of footsteps Walking into mist Always receding Never reached Is it the reverberation Of an unknown guilt? That, like peeling bells Cupped to an ear Die across a meadow He is forever on the horizon A perfect and endless Breaking dawn Of grief and joy
TomDoubty
Written by
43/M/UK
Jun 29, 2024
Jun 29, 2024 at 6:21 AM UTC
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