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I wake up (heavy) to morning light's cue,

The exhaustion of another night's chase.

Are you sorry that I imagined you?

You call to me from a crumbling barn's view;

I run to you and orange balloons displace.

I wake up (breathless) to morning light's cue.

A fruit stand in a field covered in dew--

I search strawberries for your face.

Are you sorry that I imagined you?

Beneath an ocean--frozen, still, imbued,

I seek you in an eerie green embrace.

I wake up (shivering) to morning light's cue.

Your voice, hushed, from a crawlspace echoed through;

I crouch beneath spider webs of red lace.

Are you sorry that I imagined you?

I hear your steps in forests candy strewn:

You hide so well in imagined places.

I wake up (heavy) to morning light's cue;

Are you sorry that I imagined you?