sound slipped inon barely a breezebetween the treesin leisurely swayon discarded feathersfrom moulting birdsimpatient to look their best,hidden in busheswhere they still resta night on the twigswaiting for lightto follow the soundof yet to be footsteps,no fanfarean exchange of shadowsas distance growsrippling there'wardsgaining momentumaffording tractionanticipationthe terminal curseof those without sleepsubverting time's arrowto find themselvesfading like […]
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