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Mary Shanti May 2019
Grey
Sliding in my door
Like ceramic clouds
Covering over me
Eyes still filled with musty bits of sleep
Staring at the clock
Wondering
When their interruptions will begin
Imaginary curtains I pull back
Hoping the sunlight will want to crawl into my brain again today
Some days I don’t want to have to be coerced into living my life
I loath those who leap like stars in moonlight
But really I am just wishing I was them

— The End —