she paints a crowd on a
smooth white canvas and you are
a black dot atop a colorless brushstroke
in a swarm of half-dried wetness
(might the rain have pounded us
to the ground and turned us into
wet pebbles?)
who ever thought that you might be so simple?
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Gr8 posts
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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)