Bridges
More by Goldenrose
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Cold Mornings
Awakening to days whose foggy mornings
bow to the dark hoofs of the midnight horse.
Covering myself in thick blankets, attempting to
divert the cold that
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Quick on the Draw
You
love me
fast, miss me
faster, I ran to
you, now running away takes
much longer. To get to you
-
missing you
There are degrees of missing you.
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