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Aug 2018
Yellow lit talks
Beside a borrowed car
Empty parking lot
Underneath the stars

Three feet apart
We mindlessly converse
About nothing and everything
Prolix and terse

You render me breathless
My ghost lungs deflate
You exhale the stars
And I respirate

I am so tense
With minutes too swift
Too late; you’re gone
My hands must have slipped
Darcy
Written by
Darcy  18/F
(18/F)   
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