There is a girl who
almost remembers things. She remembers
things the way someone who is about to remember a name suddenly forgets it
again. Like sea waves in early spring
that almost roll onto your toes but stop just a few inches shy and then return
to the sea, as you both long for the feel of the water covering your skin and
yet exhale relief because the water is so very cold.
The awareness of you the moon creeping into your eyes
when I come home will I still feel this
alone will you build me a
ladder out of
the sky
Wonderful prose. It puts in mind of shadows that flit just outside of view...ππΏππΏππΏππΏπ
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