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Night and
The hospital floors remind
me of you
how tile can echo back
a dozen footsteps
and still walking alone

Cold blue light
streams like no sun
no light
there is no warmth left in me
and
flickering tubes
and I
cannot hope
cannot hope to kindle
the sunlight
summer warmth
when you could smile
and the beat of your
heart
moved mine
like an echo, like
day follows night, like
footsteps on tile,
but the synthetic
echo
the glass panel
that I cannot rest against
measuring your hours in
waves in green
slows my heart in turn
night following night
without a morning
a morning without
the sun.

(Appropros of absolutely nothing, BTW)

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