188: Good morning, Sunshine

I flatter myself that she combs the Earth each night by candlelight until I am found

Or rising first reserves her glow until I’m slipped of my slumber sound.

But she feigns a gladdened expression looking lastly where I have always waited

I am the one dismantled, my overlooked hopes with thee over the hills faded.

Bondi, 2013
Bondi, 2013

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