Friday




I guess so


Don’t feel right here anymore. Socks before shoes, 
But I can’t remember the last time we kissed.
The front door is unlocked for all the neighbor’s
Ghosts. Clouds roll by, sun peaks through pine
Trees, the sunlight hits the pine needles. In a 
Glistening, kind of winter day way. Wishing for
Thoughts of tomorrow, today. Wait for the
Full moon, and you shall see your answers.


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