Words that began on my phone whilst daydreaming on the train


Little Thief

Like a cloud threading through the breeze up high
Your hair dances in the wind with childish delight;
spread like wings catching the final glints of summer
You fly south to escape the winter and here I am,
huddled next to the crackling warmth of your memory
Patiently awaiting the return of the sun
Longing to see the light you stole away on your wings

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