the seeds still drip into the night
at a loss for how to take care of you
grief coming in waves of navigating blue
hushing us quiet of what we used to do
the seeds still drip into the night
sorrow and sweet
my love braving this illness
praying for forgiveness
the seeds still drip into the night
dreaming of Sunday morning
absent of my present-day mourning
the seeds still drip into the night
and all really is alright
perhaps its a phase of moonlight
reminding me:
sleep tight
your poetry will find you in the red morning light.
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