Extraordinarily Insignificant

September 16, 2012
she traces the silhouette of your forearms into her sketchbook with bold and lasting ink.
you’ll shape it into your favorite poem
because words crawl beneath your skin and nip at your veins
and art sinks into the sockets of her eyes,
it buries itself right into the back of her mind
so that she’ll never forget to marvel at the simpler things
like oak trees
and crystal clear door knobs
and you.

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