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The alarm ticks. The boiler rustles.
The refrigerator shakes on and off.
The rain beats against the window.
The darkness has us in its power.
Sleep gives the heart and breath over
to the rhythm of the night.
The soul hangs quietly to dry
on its lines of silverwhite.
Morning reverses the roles.
The shower rustles. The kettle whistles.
The coffee drips. The darkness
retreats into the curtains
and waits, and waits, but waits and,
waits.
Ingmar Heytze
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