I miss you,
you don't
exist,
anymore:
street signs disappear,
the road smooth,
and
bump less,
and then nothing.
Leaves stay on trees
throughout every season,
and forms
and rules
meld
into
one crying pattern
of loss:
please come back,
I miss you.
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 7:33 PM UTC
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