- my dawn trims trees
into legs without shoes -
- I saw them
running barefoot with others -
- drawn to my well
for a wish and a squeeze -
- pressed into service
of the passive kind -
- cardboard boxes
melt and whisper for home -
- lost then found
between the horizon’s lives -
- time to turn your new face
to the sunlight -
- I want to be papered
with you by dawn -
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