Babbling Again

You’ll never know the wish
of the ones you miss.
Unless you can kiss
the soiled lists
of the therein slain.

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Moving from this
Old house I’ll miss
The stairs, the walls
The way light falls
On the kitchen floor
Our new green door

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Good Night

As i bid this night adieu
I wonder if i could Fly
to a time Of
And gentle kisses on the hand

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