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Some folks see her in the window,   just a shadow standing there. Some folks hear her in the morning when she sings her daily prayer, but they’ve never really met her and she likes it just that way.
The sun goes on its daily break, and the moon is roused from its slumber. Yet none of these lights grazes his skin, for Hypnos’ house is in covers.   A hermit who naps in the bathtub at dawn,
Sunlight bends at crack in my door trying to sneak a peak into my studio apartment I hide from the cruel outside beneath these sheets Skin pale as the moon And although it's June
beautifully mysterious,she hides away in the depths of nothingafraid to take a chance on the dawnnight- her best friendthe only thing she can count onsoon, it too will be gone  
Smears of rain on the glass Reflect my watery stare Tears slide off my cheeks And I think Where is the sun in this drudgery of rain Does it require surgery to cease the pain
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