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a pale blue Grey sky greets me
with my morning cigarette.
i can hear the freeway buzzing
but no one is awake yet.
i want to paint and draw.
i want to grace my fingertips
along your hips and wrist bones.
and as if the world can read my mind,
the traffic lowers to a quiet hum
while i enjoy each drag
and picks up again with the sounds
of semi's and morning traffic dwellers
as i step back inside.