Black as midnight,
In fact it is,
Windows open,
The wind does live,
Flashlights probing the sky of night,
The temporal second of imperfection
Sings a verse of life,
Bare feet on sleeping floor boards,
Tip toeing to the window,
Searching with the eyes of day,
The shadows of the light soar,
Breathing the air in,
It’s color is simply need,
Falling out through the drapes
Into a new born sleep
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