deepundergroundpoetry.com
do not wake me
and i
could not
tell myself
that she
was just
a dream,
an
apparition
that my
lonely mind
has
fabricated,
to see
her eyes
wanting
to watch
me, her
arms
needing
to
hold me,
how
can i
choose
to go
into
that tender
light
of what
will
become
morning
could not
tell myself
that she
was just
a dream,
an
apparition
that my
lonely mind
has
fabricated,
to see
her eyes
wanting
to watch
me, her
arms
needing
to
hold me,
how
can i
choose
to go
into
that tender
light
of what
will
become
morning
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