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Tell Me
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Tell Me

Poem By Richard Rawson

We don’t like to meet in daylight,
where the sun pinks-up our pallor,
its luminance too bright.

We’re at our best
when our orbits merge
in darkness,
and whispers animate
the night.

Tell me, lover, if you know:
Do the promises we make
in shadow
expire when they meet the light?

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