halfwaySpring

monday [at night], a place where you interrupted me with your invitation, you said,

“and this is why i don’t believe your goodbyes,”

building on so much material, a story for the birds, i thought about it/my incapacitated sentence already in place and heard my future-self say,

“but this is why i can’t say goodbye.”

 

while you forgot to kiss me in the morning

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