I will push our palms together, and somewhere, our memories will align.
These fragments of you,
or of me:
our separate childhoods,
our separate adolescences.
I want them to fit together
and overlap; I want
to be together from the start.
We are unlikely, and we are
awkward on our feet,
but you are the stars in the sky,
you are the last breath
of autumn air
before winter forces sleep.
I am not enough,
and you are more than.
I never say the right thing, but you are forgiving, and I promise you...













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