To open your eyes like a night creature, moulting out of a sarcophagus, slithering into the shivering world to slowly walk on an icy pavement, feezing every step of the way in the dark of the morning, while the sun stays undecided to make a statement.
Towards the horizon must you wait? facing the sky, on the sly, hoping a burn would taint your skin, spark a flame in a dying ember, smouldering under a frosted gaze.
My morning that begins with a whisper, continues in a whimper, caressed by a whisker..one that is today, that will be tomorrow and after that, but they look conjoined, labyrinthine, this daily maze.
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