(I admit this is more of the same. I admit there are only two seasons. I admit this was influenced by Pete Jolly. I admit nothing.)
i was not here
in summer
when you painted me
with your phenomenal hands
i was shivering
on stand by
under the crystal lake
of a winter night
i had not yet
begun to imagine
the warm sun
hidden behind your eyes
i had not yet
begun to dream
until you sowed my eyes
with sleep.
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