I’ve never met you but one morning there was a photo of you on my kitchen table. I had to cover you over with my hand. Your smile looked like a warm hug and made me want too much. Tracking The sunset is chasing the tracks of cirrus across the sky. Orange lengthens to violet, darkening upwards to night, wooing stars, those beacons to what we can’t fathom, all of us leaning incessantly towards the hope of a heart beating back. Elizabeth Lewis
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