Your Little Secret
Kept
in shadows
where what is felt
cannot be seen
hands
blind drawing
my outline
against
the dark
just broken
by what little
comes through
a door
we can only crack
48
I’ve seen 48 calendar pages
since I last saw you
the sun has risen and set
over countless red digits
and second hands sweeping
dizzying rounds to forever
so time is a liar
because
you were here yesterday
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