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Awkward Silence
You came to see me
in the morning
talking of lucid dreams.
I twisted my bony body
on the ragged couch
to meet your gaze.
My lungs nervously
rattled and burned,
blackened
by too many cigarettes.
The hum of last night's
drunken strangers
still lingered my mind,
like the smoke curling
in the cracked sunlight
on the carpet.
Shy desire fluttered my heartbeat
forbidding me
to fully exhale.
I asked you who was singing
on the radio.
Your wide eyes
stared at the ceiling.
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