Strolling thoughts in the warmth of a Seattle January afternoon,
The fickle breath of day brushes bleached cloud-tops haloing the city,
Wisping away, revealing blue stained by grey framing golden-green light
Strained through preoccupation with goals and expectations set
In a wintery heart encased by frosty lace which once had been a silky
Dream: warm, fresh, musky, mouth-watering like re-born flesh wrung,
Stretched by a soul made pure by the promise of being known by the
Mirroring terror of the Creator ensconced in heaving breaths tangling
Limbs, thundering vulnerability by the pull of breaking the surface
Ocean, crawling to the edge, feeling the earth's tug while heaven swarms
Past, slow and dreamy, and the sun becomes an abreviation interrupting
Night, when eyes widen, when the memory of things to come replaces
Wishes strewn like playing cards face-side up before the game is
Collected: before before, when i mistook day for light, dusk for dawn.
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