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Will You Be Long?

The edge of morning passed,

Awake, but scarcely,

I close the door on sleep

And you.

Words tip toe on your tongue

“Will you be long”?

The day’s rigours still arrayed,

Careless, yet besieged,

Through fibres stretched

We talk,

You send a signal clear and strong:

“Will you be long”?

Now night’s mid point breached

The conjugated I, you and we

Are six Autumns old

Or twelve,

My answer’s then both right and wrong

“Will you be long”?

“I always will belong”