white foxes

my friend

there is so much that you have missed

each morning the sun still rises to touch the clouds with gold

that place that sells the good kebabs is making real lemonade again

and Sara’s baby girl giggles in her sleep

they say she couldn’t see that anymore she lived in a world with no colour

but last night, in a world bleached by fog I saw

two white foxes in the headlights

suspended

how I miss you

dear friend

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