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"You have a way with words,"
She told me,
The clinking of her silverware
Making it sound like a song.
"Thank you,"
Was my tired response,
The sadness
Breaking my voice.
"You don't sound like it."
She stirred her tea
With only 2 fingers.
I could see her imaginary crown
Sitting upon her head.
She was a queen,
Her royalness only noticed by me.
"Most people think it's unrealistic,"
I sighed.
"What could be more realistic for you?"
She said,
Playing off my word 'realistic,'
Saying it the same way I did,
Dancing on the letters.
I could see her,
Her largeness twirling about the letter R,
Slipping and sliding down the letter E.
"Miss?"
She snapped me out of it.
"Yes?"
This room was so boring.
"Do you have any other interests?"
I fiddled with my skirt.
"Yes, I do."
And with that
My mind traveled elsewhere,
My other interests being the details,
Noticing the unnecessary,
Being very unrealistic.



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