Red skies over home again.
She arrived, aching, lovelorn and worn for the wear
after much travel.
We went around and around...
A dream, she said, it was
exquisite
she said
(I wish you could have seen it, she said
the rain and the kiss at the end)
I wish too, my dear, that I had been there.
I wish you were still there.
Now black turntables going around and around
fade
into red beginnings for me.
--dreaming of me no more--
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