A
season
of wishes
maybe
less for more
if I were the one
I'd have
an incarnate spirit
for time travel
or perhaps I'd be
the little tea kettle
for more steaming
like a fire in the rain
of our ultimate survival
my questions, your staying
your answers, my leaving
its a disguise in waiting
for the day, for a reason
if only you had told me
I could have, you might have
moved a cloud or two
while we lost the rain on our fate
I think we would have known then
Isn't love sometimes like the sunlight
lightly touching the edge of a nocturnal dream.
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