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Damn it, where did you go?
I meant my pen.
Shit, is that the time?
Oh well, I’ll have to make do with noodles.
And all because he left you!
Silence is deafening.
Clamour makes some noise
I can still hear you
Cry a storm
But it still doesn’t rain?
The weather man’s wrong
Cold seeps in
The blanket stiff
The heater burnt out
But he will come
Later…
Then sun slithers in
Warming your face
Beckoning,
Fluttered lashes
Soft in wispy drowsiness
Opened eyes to a glorious
Morning – yes, today
He will come
Eyes fall to the floor
And sees the foot of the bed
Dammit- he left with your shoes!
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