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some days we are
the musicians playing
the cellos as the ship
goes down.
 
there is no quiet way to end this.
 
in an alternate universe,
love is a flat rock that never sinks
no matter how often we skip the stones
across lake reflected skies.
 
so let us stay
strangers. let us breathe
right here
still
and empty handed.
 
 
  • Like 2

mouse / she/her.

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