Good morning

Stifling another yawn,
Almost.
A tentative hint of sunlight,
Finds its way though frosty window.
Fuck me it’s cold.

Get out of bed,
You’ve got work to do.
Nope, don’t want to.
Another half-stifled yawn,
While water escapes through eyes still grainy with sleep,
And dream-addled thoughts run rampant in a still groggy mind.
Good morning,
Or isn’t that what they always say?

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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