it is june, and i shiver. we see the lowest highs and the rain only escapes for a few days. my arms get kissed by sunlight then, like a sudden dream, i awake to the reality of gray skies and mucky muck. there is that fleeting thought of possibility, where i remember your touch and the easy intimacy of how you held me one morning and sang softly. my skin trembles but my heart remains wistful. it was a long time ago, a skip in the record. i think of you and i remember train stations and sultry jazz and the slow dance that never was. there was one rainy night long ago and poetry over telephones. i don’t know what will coalesce but i do know your peace.

“even the smallest stone glistens with tears, yes, but also from the light of being seen, and loved for simply being there”
alice walker

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