Scent of Mist

The scent of mist drifts softly,
revealing paths the light has not touched,
traces of hands that never saw the bright glow.
Every breath becomes a map of absences,
mist grazes surfaces without contact,
and time holds the beat of what remains invisible.
Thus the night smells ungiven waits,
I follow a scent that lacks any trace,
until dawn reveals what remains secret. #

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