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I think about you in the mornings, when the light is grey and the air still dewy.

I think about you when I sip my coffee, when it scalds my tongue and I grimace.

I think about you when I look across the room at the bare far wall, when I listen to the clock go tick,

tick,

tick,

tick.

I think about you when the birds start to sing.

I think about you, but only ever in the mornings, before anything else;

I think about you.