My time moved in such summer ways.
I was stoic, I was frantic, I was stasis, I was storm.
I missed things so completely, it was almost
Like not missing them at all.
My emptiness and I had tamed each other
And grew wild in the tangles of those parts we couldn’t know.
Together, we decided that love passes sometimes
On such sweet, such quiet days
That only someone sitting in the whirling of my inside
Could discover
How like the sunset
I have made my loss.
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