Waltzing Dawn
The estrangement of
a cruising day,
plodding onto the
dormant senses.
Ancestral musings
strewn with monotonous
contours,
faded into crevices
of streaming melancholy.
Smudged against the
sugary tea,
dripping hair,
soiled feet,
the erroneous space between,
the cuckoo sang
better.
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