‘A Weak Passed’

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Seven days is all I can say that makes any sense,

at least of today.

A cloudy impasse, a shorn silken smite.A melody & a purpose, to welcome tonight.

As the weekend slips nearer, & we lace up our dreams, the beauty we’ll share, will split at the seams.

Pouring love & it’s detritus all over each other, as we kiss the morning awake from under the cover.

So hold my hand & decide, which way it will go. Will it hurt or just tickle? You don’t try, you won’t know.

Let us take hold of the chances by the scruff of the neck. & darnce blindly & proudly & give what we get……

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