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dust

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Grace 8

dust September 23, 2019 0 Comments

Roy Herndon Smith

Sleeping alone, I
roll over into you not
here, yet there you are.

Time like space breathing
distance in intimacy,
the remembered touch.

The atmosphere of
you enfolding solitude
in the present sense.

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Categoriesdaily poems, Roy Herndon Smith
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Walking
September 23, 2019
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Canopy
September 25, 2019

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