I think of you, no more
Nor do you, of me.
I think of purple berries
Between your knuckles
With no one else to see.
Trickling through my fingers
Grains of sand
That I long to give back
To you
That continue to spill over
Across the fences…
Spare me the thought
That maims you.
Because finally
It will just come to you
And to me
And feel, feel, feel
Constantly.
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