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were not for words
would you remember me here
fashioned in lines
of surrender

would you know
how it feels
when sunlight is burned
and curtains fall
from my windows

I see you
I know you –
how sweet this refrain
of birth without knowing
how far
I have come

from a day like no other
splinters of light
are pooled into places
we carry the same

I dare not to speak

. . .