xxiii.

It’s six in the morning and I’ve snuck out
to see the sun rise over the lake, but the
clouds are covering the sky and there’s a
mist across the lake. It’s six in the morning
and I’m on a rowboat. The rustic metal is
cold and when I lay down to close my eyes
goosebumps travel across my skin. It’s six
in the morning and I’m floating along the
still current of the lake. The ores are in the
boat and my head is on the edge and my
feet are dangling off the other side. It’s six
in the morning and it feels like Fall in the
middle of Summer. The cold air brushes
against my bare legs..

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