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In the empty morning silence
your eyes reflect happiness upon a glaze of sleep deprivation.
Drowsy hands tapping beats upon worn jeans and the condensation fogged windows.
Why can’t I let go of that smile
the elbow creases and the fleshier bits of the forearm attached
to the human that I feel so desperately attached to
yet
unattached from.
Calm music battling shaking hands
and nerves like tightened knots.

My hands never felt so foreign as they do when I think that your eyes are on me.

— The End —