streams of clarity
and glimpses of life.
Real life.
Where couples, hands interlocked
sway on sidewalks
their faces smudged
by the soft and luxurious words
they speak into each other’s hair.
Sometimes I find myself wondering
when I will be able to see through
the illusions.
When my hair will become the dense
net of secrets that are only shared
between lovers.
I want to know intimacy of the
deepest and most raw kind.
Like sunflowers turning
to the pale yellow
strands of sun.
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