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morning after

morning after

counting what if's -

do you remember what I said

(you are every face I saw

every cloud
and every tree)

little escapes from reality

one walking away with someone else

another drifting away
in the memory of a fire

the smell of another's lips
somewhere in your dreams

vanishing into an echo of a kiss

and the sound of flames

of voices in the rain
(to feel the drops on your forehead -

to feel

last night's echoes

the bygone art
of waking up)

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