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too quiet
just a pair of old friends
caught up in a snowstorm
feet kicked upon the table
you tasted bitter the second time
we paused
but maybe it was just you
those dragonfly kisses
that bruise on your wrist
found its way to my mouth
we were delicate leaves
itching to make our first,
and last,
flight.
all of those November bruises
you were quite the adventure
hands reached out for laughter
you tasted bitter the second time
I paused
maybe it was just me

— The End —