NaPoWriMo #20

Upon Waking

Awaken, then.
My tongue is furred thick with the night
Morning crowds in noisily
Jostling something that I have forgotten

My tongue is furred thick with the night
Hope is spiteful, and relentless
Jostling something that I have forgotten
You are gone

Hope it spiteful, and relentless
Morning crowds in noisily
You are gone
Awaken, then.

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