feelings falling off,

like flakes,
                  off,
                        moulting skin,

                         shedding
                         detritus:

          moments past.

and now,
                they ask,

                                as to why,

                          trepidation accompanies hope, always.

simple:
                                    mirth,
vanishes,
                flees,

as do I,

the perennial overnighter.

🙂

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