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Day Fourteen

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My sleep has become

a shackled journey

a verging of mute prophecy

 

My hands have become

a sterile five finger grasp

at stainless steel foreverness

 

My love has become

a panic of memories

smothering distant kisses

 

Tomorrow has become

a craft cocktail of fear and wishes

to be enjoyed alone

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© 2020 Mo Lynn Stoycoff.  All rights reserved.

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