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Thomas Oak May 2015
Each morning the same question,
the same sickly sweet knot in my tummy.

How long now?
Thomas Oak May 2015
Flowers turn
to meet the morning sun.
This is my religion.
Thomas Oak May 2015
Sunlit eyes
like autumn pools
We smile over a *** of jasmine tea.
Thomas Oak May 2015
Sometimes sun, sometimes rain
Wind blows in the rushes
and I am so happy.
Thomas Oak May 2015
So tender
Each kiss
says what a thousand words cannot.
Thomas Oak May 2015
Beneath chattering palms
ocean waves talk quietly.
Quieter still, the crescent moon wanders the night.
Thomas Oak May 2015
Like snow outside my window
words fall to paper.
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