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I wake up in the early morning hours from a dream that fades with the rising sun. I feel around for a thought to keep me grounded as the things of last night barely remain.

I hear the soft rain against the window. I’m hard but there’s nothing to do about my current state. I’m somewhere between awake and asleep aware of both dream and my lonely desire.

The clock ticks as slow as ever before. I could remain here in bed but I won’t remain here much longer.

Categories: writing


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