thinking about when you wrote me a poem
& i knew you didn’t write poetry
like me; & i had told you
goodnight, but after i drifted
under the covers, you sent me
the words that your brain had spun
up; & in the morning, i was gifted
with the image of you looking
in my eyes like an ancient god;
& i miss all
the words you ever said to me; & i wonder
if you ever get lonely at night
like me
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Ooh like “you sent me the words your brain had spun up” interesting image and poem!