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Chris Weallans Jul 2014
A moment breathing
Waiting for tides and fair winds
The stars move, listen.

A moment broken
Voices arc in the dark dawn
The stars fade, leaving.

You wait at doorways,
Linger in the dying dream,
Silent in your stars

I feel your breathing
In chill ripples on my skin.
Will you speak of stars.

or moments

or tides

or dawn

— The End —