Wednesday, September 26, 2018


there are 35 stills of her weighing on my phone
and weighing on me
playing like a carrousell of my favourite smile
and I count to 4,
always the believer and brave as a prayer,
before I say her name

there are 20 days of feverish need
calls made of seconds, made of hours, made of weeks
she is: daydreaming
7 hours ahead or behind,
always the believer and strong as a prayer,
I hold onto her voice

1... 2... 3... 4
and her name fills the night

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