the condensation
in the air
clings to my winter coat

as my back nestles
into the grooves
that line your chest

my ears ring with symphonies

the dance between
sunlight and leaves
speaks to me

suggests to my heart
that I cry

who am I
in the scheme of this whole thing?

what is my life
if I don’t let beauty in?

my notebook
breathes with me
clearly sees
my internal workings

while this perfect friend’s
hover over me

as though nothing
is ever wrong

and never will be again.


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