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pulled awake by nervous dreams I perch
in the throb and thrum of the refrigerator, feeling
the pulse of the house's slow breathing
through cold linoleum, waving my lettuce sandwich
in slow circles through the dark, contemplating
the snow brisking off the neighbour’s roof.

outside the streetlight pulls snow
downward and thinly drapes itself in cold:
a weak attempt to hide its pale nakedness
from the leering night.


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