When ‘the splendour’ soon enter
Then the break, wanting to wake
In set, there’s no one to welcome
To say or expect, to reach or sum

To water the garden; a final ciao
To erase the solo raised eyebrow
As a normal host, a wish is keen
In case, at dusk anguish visits in

For, there is nobody to hear ouch
To eat dinner, to zzz on the couch
At night’s on. What will dawn let?
With much gone, caught she slept

© Ricardo Sexton


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Chapter Two: CIIPHER


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