Fragment 9.788

My hand held the brush expertly,

Coloring the sun,

On everything passed,

As I gently inhale life-

Back into my lungs

Between each flowing stroke.

Attentive to every corner

In need of covering,

Loving,

Refurbishing.

Plucking last seasons wings,

Before tonight’s

Contented sleep

For the 6th week in a row

After so many years

Of insomnia’s bothersome goblin fiend.

xoxo

 

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