orange spills

the slow rise of the sun

disintegrates into a

puddle of warm orange,

tints of yellow. a minute

fraction of blue hue, skirts

around the edges of fresh

clouds, lined with light.

there is enough knowing

inside your mouth, to

assure you of your

presence on this earth, it

is sufficient just for this

moment; trickling into a

loophole of forsaken time.

allow them to seep out,

in forward motion of  an

attempt to build yourself

up; from bubbling brooks.

 

 

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