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Waiting

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I'm warm here,
between the stars,
between the morning.
What is doubt?
What is fear?

The air is ice,
but I take my fill
and linger
for the chill.
It doesn't come.

Outside the daises
keep their omens,
premonitions.

The breeze is dainty
and so like a winding road,
it leads me.

It's mine alone,
but not to keep.





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