The evenings end in strange angles of words, in quiet, dark country hamlet streets and a creeping feeling of peace at the edge of my fingertips, this is what repose will do. Your alarm clock rears up for one last hullabaloo (you always hated this word, but sometimes there is no other), and you know if you just make it to the end of this sundown there is a deep breath and hours of words for the taking, so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue, it's all snowflakes in rainbow colors.
The windows are thick with frost. You sleep under 15 blankets like a reverse Princess and the Pea. The sun rises over the Hudson River. How many years have you been coming here now? The children grow under your nose. You age, you can feel how you age. There is something magical around the corner, there is another spring around the corner, you know the only way to get to fireworks is to stay alive long enough for them to be ready you are
ready.
One more day till deep breath.
I am ready.
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