There is a light that comes from the telly,
Sometimes the moon shines in the night,
But not a flicker from the table,
No message pops up in the chat.
I wonder when the time is coming,
When does the blink mean less than that?
I circle back, afraid of something—
Not getting any, and yet getting some.
Sent
© Copyright: Вера Эра, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125030400539
Свидетельство о публикации №125030400539
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