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...Poetry maybe? MAG
I caught Leo fading fast as tired eyelids slide
Reliving an immortalized January under a warmer sky
to flourish beneath my favorite willow tree. Near the Pleiades
we pointed, discussing relevance of dams. of family. of travel.
Closing an eight month gap which changed only the number of miles between.
I missed that meteor; my eyes were closed. Silence was muffled by warmth.
to let down your guard and laugh.
to take off your glasses and cry.
attack and defense. nobility and desire.
I'd rather sink into this sloping ground with a heavy chest sighing,
becoming one with the moist grass. Your wool sweater collects every branch and leaf.
My throat collects every choke of disbelief.
“You know what I mean,” then
browsing for benches, laughing now that the city sleeps and cars question our midnight motives.
The clock relentlessly ticks of quiet reminders, not only of a night anticipating day,
but of a week rapidly disintegrating from present to past tenses. changing now to then
and do to did. Contemplating future, “tomorrow we will meet again.” (hoping you'll still be able to squeeze me in.) “A week is not enough, you know.
Your time is too stretched too thin.”
Constellations inevitably fade, bringing brilliant dreams to end.