Morning

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The sky turned blue, not black,
(it was daytime, not night)

He heard too much
of that negative talk
and didn’t believe in the possibility,

listening to that many
other possible people
about things he wasn’t supposed to know

(who was?)…

He hoped for more—
a perfect score?
a thousand words?
which add up, at once, to you?

Nothing was said
about my face turning red
(you were kind about that
and it showed)

How easily
how perfectly

the mo(u)rning passed
Together at last
Come see

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