magiC

Tired eyes

drench me into sleep

where I can not

run

far enough

to dip my crackling feet

in circles.

where its cold

and full of

stones

and people packed with cotton sweaters

exposing

half shalwar kameez.

where- we’ve danced

among the clouds

hovering the weather

that just seems Right,

if you’re missing Long Island weather.

I lose my breath

to the useless marathon

taking me                                             nowhere

from the flannel sheep coevered

sheets and worn out comforter

that sandwich me.

My eyes tiredly open

with a s i g h

making me realize it is too far away

but you’re even further.

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