someone stayed up late into the orange- mooned night waiting for me.
one lamp shining in the dark a cup of cooled tea on the counter.
book pages turning slowly plots with solemn endings and holidays.
wallclock ticking and resounding inside someone's messy thoughts.
i was blundering breaking down doors breaking into hearts.
door knobs and splinters incriminating me as my past faded.
low harvest moon illuminating tea cups and bloody hands.
trust in the hands of a judas and someone will cry for help.
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