my hair a wind transfluvial
something that moves the leaves
something that moves the sand
imagined behind the waves. Humid landscapes
traveled so deep moist
hours of such finishes as camouflage
of syllables night.
sleepless
hand hand foot foot toe with
hand with fingers that are crossed and we absorbed slowly caress
waiting in the rain and wet also fear
up soon now.
(save one for the morning, yeah. Save a beautiful song for the morning, babe)
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