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Through the Night

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Come find me at midnight
when the rest of them are out
Tiptoe through the cracked, brown grass
Thank Odin for this drought

And then for the starlight
that kisses our shoulder blades
And keeps our meeting secret
While shadows play charades.

Don't leave me at twilight
When sun flirts with horizon
Lay beneath your painted bench
And pray the time's not gone.

Father Time bids adieu
to our warm and sweaty palms
That have slowly pulled away
Reluctantly parting with no qualms.





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