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Trailing

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About last summer.

Sometimes you're only fading mist against windowpanes,

trailing my every second as you have before.

As if we're still encircling 

the same unforgiving,

violent mirrors of one another.

I just wanted to stay wrapped up together,

the knowing rhythm of our

bodies perfuming the dark,

the warmest place I'll remember,

tracing bridges I've been meaning to mend.

But it's not time to go yet,

to say goodbye to the cracked vessels cradling us.

Sometimes you're only thunder 

sweeping through the bleached sky,

etching every step as you have before.

As if we're still navigating the same dangerous curiosity,

turning our fevered hands into monsters.

I just wanted to stay wrapped up together,

each soft exhale and wisp of light in your eyes

threading together its own tongue,

the sound I'll cling to while moving along 

these vast, interconnecting terrains.

The alluring gaze guiding me 

remaining cold, flickering,

setting adrift what was once

an intimate and precise course.

Tracing fragile bridges I cannot mend,

bridges I've too much faith in to torch alone.

Sometimes you're more than the love,

whether made or stripped of,

fusing with me as you have before.

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