Day fourteen.
Howl at the moon
Tears
in my eyes. Crystal clear, like May Rain,
Like
walking in the woods alone,
Like having somewhere to sleep at night.
When the sun and the horizon meet,
The
birds dive deep. DEEP. D E E P.
Deep
into the clouds where angels weep and roses turn to dust.
The houses where our parents slept. Where the
windowsills fill
With flower pots and dirty coffee mugs. The
weather seems to be
Nice in this area. CLOUDS. Here where mountains
move like months change,
Like butterflies raise their wings, when the
thunderstorm lets you in .
COLD LIKE THE SEA, HAPPY LIKE THE WIND.
The
creases on each page, the words that stare blank.
Meet me at the end.
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