fever dream | poem

poetry

someone’s tapping, outside of my window

sounds too pretty, want to let them in.

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our lips touched, taste like salty water

felt so real, wish that I’d fall in. 

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featherless bird, how does it feel

moving between night stars?

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a voice once called the bed of an ocean

basement of the mind.

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staying up too long can turn you blind

impulse ripples, physical tension

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