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poem seven: mornings

Writer's picture: eviecourtiereviecourtier

Updated: Jun 21, 2020



‘...and as the morning comes, early beams seep through the windows, consuming the crumpled sheets

innocence lies beside you, chest rising and falling to its own unique rhythm

the map of his palm to your fingertips directs the day which lies unwritten, you smile and gently fall back to sleep’


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