My cashmere covered hour,
slips away into threadbare nothing
by the time it gets to you.
And frailty breaks so easily
with the coming of dawn.
I forget to listen for the difference
when the sound could have made one.
And the waves bury me whole.
slips away into threadbare nothing
by the time it gets to you.
And frailty breaks so easily
with the coming of dawn.
I forget to listen for the difference
when the sound could have made one.
And the waves bury me whole.
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