Left you breathless in the brine
For so very few people will I haul myself out of bed before the mourning doves have even woken up, but since some of them live in the D.C. metro area, I am once again watching the world in dawn-flashed geometries of catenaries and crossties slide past me from a rear-facing seat of the Northeast Corridor. There were some excellent mussel-streaks over the Mystic and the brick-boxed windows are gilt-glinting even now. A milk of mist is actually hovering over the green spaces. I still feel a teleporter would be healthier on my sleep schedule.

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Love.
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And bridges and salt marshes and warehouses and barges and pulling my cap down over my eyes and napping once my seatmate had disembarked at New York . . .
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Thank you! I have made landfall and already been taken for a walk by my godson!
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*waves from the close-in DC suburbs*
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Hello!