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neko-nae Feb 2016
So here I sit,
millions of thought moths
rattle through my
skull, like change
at the bottom of
her purse--

the trees whisper
silently, urging
me to be still,
quiet, patient--

they give my heart
peace as winds
tickle my skin
in tender kisses,

I long for your
company, embrace even--
The winds of time bring me patience-- in Green Hill Cemetery. (02.01.2016)

— The End —