Two Months and Two Days

I read it again. Forgotten how good it was. Near perfect actually. Impressively so. (sigh) And a chancy more open. More like you say. That. That is what I want. And I think you. The streets may be dark but there is something still there. Still waiting. Still.   I breathe again. sweet and cool. Not to chill, no. Soothe. And that is what is different. So. Very. Different.    And I love it.

A fault?      Possibly.       Hopefully not       ...in every sense of that word. Alone. But together never so. Not remotely.         Light at the end of the alley? Sure. But only if it's a street lamp. I prefer the black you see, all mud but the lines all clean.

A day after. And still nearly four years. Quite unlike the one. A moon? Possibly then. And now. Wane ending. Don't blow it out. Not a fool's errand. Just a chance. Wrongs right. Suches we could very well use. Edged out? Well, if so it shanty come to blows. There's still only one voice. That one that looks 'neath the bushes.