The rose and the sun

Had a dream
about you last night.
A bad penny returning,
or was it plain.
I held my breath,
as we did sometimes –
trying to catch the sun.
There was such
an unleashing of love.
Now I know why
poets fly so high.
Like snow geese,
winging it
Then the lies,
as you still lie.
Stifling the air,
and the end.

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