Forgive

Beg your pardon

I left before dawn

basking in the freshly lit world

and filling spent lungs

with the air of sudden leeway

I can want it to be

but there’s little left to be done

You can wish it to be

but there’s nothing more to say

Beg your pardon

Feelings don’t wash clean so swiftly

that we can remain immune

to their tight-choke grip

so they cloak us like fog

and we walk in their haze

till time has had its bellyful

We exist now in the postscript

Beg your pardon

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