we hide our unguarded
desires under a coal mine,
just like an amaranth,
all a dream until it
aches and blisters and
could no longer stop itself
from manifesting, like
heedless blossoms staring
skyward, tracing the steps
until it touches the
vague blue clouds,
until all it knows is that
it must follow - the sound,
the sight, the feel of your voice.
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