Node Volley, Round 4: I want someone to read between my lines

Your face in the morning, good morning,
It's been so very long.
The span of a whole night, dark night,
Which to me feels eternal.

The spans of time within our dreams, sweet dreams,
Compress and stretch our lives.
We reach out to others in space, meatspace,
And carry back echoes in ourselves.

One week or fifty-two-thousand, or million,
It makes no difference.
Time and wind erode cliff faces, build spaces,
Reopening the gates of chance.

Node Volley, Round 6: because I am only half of what you need

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