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It has been raining ever since.
It leaches all colour out of the morning.
The light tarmac
flings back the potassium sky.
In the afternoon,
armadas of nimbostratus
approach, rapidly
splattering white glow on my slate roof
while refraction dribbles
down my window.
At night,
the streetlamp steams, and
glass scabs catch the
tangerine light
like sequins.
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