Clearing Of

An adrenaline rush,
a quick, deep thought;
my soul unfastened,

the light- a guide.

This is how the morning
greets me, its howling,
sandstorm followed by

a terrible pause.

And of last evening,
plates remain unwashed,
spoons coated with honey;

I knew this loveliness
wouldn't last.

I knew the message in
your eyes when leaving,
was not of staying but

of farewell

and I, still alive,
am strangely resigned

to clearing off the table.

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