1:29

 My eyes pull against taupe walls by the seethe of street light that collects over the curtain rails.

While I'm looking at the livid arch of light that stockades my sleeplessness. 

The predictability of my consciousness neither a comfort nor guide, as I wait for the chimera of sleep. 

And it's the memory of you, and the dream, that allows me to let go, and drift into our surety.

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