Ask Nothing Of It

If

For that juncture

Between the set of the sun

And the fall of the night

I could breathe

And ask nothing of a place

But to be there

With it.

I would.

If

For just that breath

I could exist

There in passing

Leaving no trace

I would.

If

I shutter my eyes

And travel my thoughts

To stand in the gloaming

Breathe in

And allow sleep to fall

I will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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