Braiding into itself
dregs of dawn and spurts of dusk
hover in noon--waiting

Watching breaths gasp deeper
clawing within--
for places in souls not yet reached, not yet breached

Edges of reality seep through into tomorrow
sagging and swaying against the inward storm of

Souls amble on--as if the world was rightside down
aware of the tree roots swaying
and sky beneath feet
--holding back protests as if--
they almost forgot to smile


On the verge of love
On the edge of happiness

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