rising from the pit of my stomach
feasting on lemon rinds and black coffee along the way
bulding to the throat into a suffocating dryness
swelling into the figment of my imagination
a mere catalogue of memories of things seen and unseen:
a conservatory,
a field,
stairs,
parcel deliveries,
an island,
wind turbines,
a blue couch (i think)...
feeling the loss as i debate, grey? or blue?
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