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Description
you see, you are not more
dear to me than pen
and paper, gel-point ink
but you find ways to
sneak into these words
and fingers pacing these
blue lines, white space,
the phrasings that come
to me in lieu of sleep.

maybe you are more
close to me than
images I've never seen
except in sunsets watched
with you and all the
songs and pages turned
and perhaps one day maybe
i can be to you what
you are for me.