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living sits the morning long
on fringes of the night
swelled against the aging
silver frawns
how it is I noticed
how it is I stayed
here as your
imaginary sun

truth becomes
the slightest breeze
ushered through the gate
whispers now
of summers
come and gone
reminding me
of almost then
I thought the leaving lost
the way returning here
to not yet known

yellow takes the place
of blue –
purple grieves
the green
a path into the wordless
world beyond
feels the same as some I’ve dreamed
once we moved the same
fit against the going
becoming light
as one

. . .