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By Robert Hortle May 12, 2015

Budapest, Autumn

You’ve seen me, love,
tapping Morse code on the pavement,
breaking all this peace
with both my feet.

I’ve been walking home,
in the dusk where the concrete settles,
thinking “this scene tears my heart —
someone should write it down.”

With the light on the water,
and the days growing leaner,
I dream of getting younger
almost every single day.

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