tim buckley

starvation.

manages the pull.subsides the fear.remains the focus.quiets the space.with a blanketing lull.leveling out.the slightest tides.waves discerning.the whites of the wash.fortifying their race.to the other side.the darkest face.of the still moon.

the night does its best.to sing of peace.while grumbles in my belly.echo.

me to sleep.

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