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Waning Crescent

Photo by lorenzo mazzoleni on Unsplash

I am on the dark side of a Super Moon waiting for June
Autumn orange reaping what I don’t remember sowing
Wondering if I’d have been better off not knowing
Wishing you’d make real room outside my imagination

Outside oh so subtle sublimations
Inside your personal spaces
Some days it’s all I can do not to let go
Let go even though I know in moments you heard

In moments you imagined too
This is not how real people do
I’m too old for pretentious fairy tales
Too young for settling for vicarious dreams

Whatever you choose, whatever may come
I hope you know the option was always there
I’m not special but I am rare
Even when you couldn’t see me
I was always there

I’ll fade back into the scent of the shop
Wait for days for your best thoughts to drop
Take deep breaths if it gets too good to be true
Knowing some part of me may always remember
When the wind blows through the chimes
On the coldest nights of December


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