Colour blind pages flood my judment 
and birds sing early at dusk.
The muse of the Aurora has come
to brush my curls and sing me a song.

My body is naked across the miror, 
but I can still feel the warmth of the bed

I tip my toes gently in the shower
and no one can see me make a slow-daring step.

I run my hands through my body
and sing songs I never sing
I shower the night off and welcome the Sun and wind

I dance through dusk inside my head and step out 
to welcome my friend Aurora.

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