Small Hours

I want to talk with you

into the smallest hours of the morning.

To sit and talk.

No more.

Of hopes

of fears

of dreams

and everything in between.

Please

don’t think me dull

that I want to talk.

For what could be more fascinating

than to sit

with you.

Hearts and minds open.

To listen to you speak

about the very stardust we are made of.

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