Inspiration is fleeting, once again.
I’m counting sheep because I can’t
sleep, because my dreams are plagued with thoughts of you.
Do polar opposites attract?
I’m
the ocean (rough, calming & frightening)
And
you’re my moon, pulling me close as I push away.
Uno,
dos, tres, vier, vyf, ses, seven ate nine; I’m sure she was divine. I’ve
plucked the 10th sheep from my mind, sheared the fluffed up wool to
keep you warm out there in the sky.
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