we catch eyes
laugh together
eyebrows
later:
that's a memory
til next
wanting it
while a distant siren passes
couldn't I be in that place
or would you then be strange to me
as others have been strange
these fingers glow like charcoal paper
erased where the shadow parts
words conceal meaning
like walking too slow round the moon to find the sun
certain things aren't butterflies
certain things are the air the butterflies fly through
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