saturation

annie wheat

Jan 28, 2022

there’s a moon to my left

as the sun sets near

the softest wash over the sky.

how many more colors

can she push into the field,

surrounding and surrendering

to touch of sunset.

the horizontal line is ours and

holds a place for me and you,

stretched and glowing,

we’re seated at the cusp of leaping and knowing.

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