That we shall,
live our tales
and pickle our words in them
only to find each other drenched
in each others’ voices
when we aren’t watching,
see, you always had a penchant
for dreams carved into phrases,
phrases strummed into whispers,
whispers carved into poetry
and poetry seeping in
through cracks in the door,
the sheer curtains
and parted lips..
didn’t you
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