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your marble
curtains open
parallel universe
you are taller
more slender
hands willowy and fingertips
chin rests on my head
like helicopters landing softly
hair long, straighter than sunlight
a waterfall to rocky shoulders
the words you speak, now
seem pure
eyes the soul’s splashes waves
looking up expanding
smiles, like sun rises, don’t seem painful anymore
like they do now
you are loose
at every moment open unlaced
when you run, it’s art
Pollock maybe
wouldn’t be surprised if
you weren’t even touching the ground
a canvas on the floor never touched by a brush
but painted
you like all the same things, more
you’re as kind and sweet as ever, a silly heart thinly veiled
a lot of things
don’t have to change, know that, hardly anything
your marble
is fine.
we are older, wiser, better now
in this universe
prepared, having kissed life
tasted its bitter sweet lips.
i drive to your house
an hour away, all the time
we sit in the living room
with your mom, lips pursed, head bent down
like she’s watching kittens
play
we talk
throw heads back
the world outside
is distant
we write poems, read them aloud
i don’t have to write this, maybe i don’t even now
i drive home
with you, even though you’re not there
we live simply, peacefully
a life full of important things; truth, fiction
we make friends abundant
travel
we keep busy
like the flowers not like the bee
we ask nothing more, but a purpose.
curtains close
i walk out
say
the problem with this
is that it won’t happen
because i can’t see
the good
in reality,
like you.
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