Day 29
Prompt: what nobody knows poem
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Stupidly
whenever it rains at nightI rush to the street, wrapped in sheets
on instinct, hoping you might be there
my sad prince in a wet tuxido
without watching your eyes
turn a little green as you wake up
I can’t enjoy this eternal game
of dark and light on emerging skies
my morning yogurt is tasteless
and there is no one to tell that a kangaroo
can’t walk backwards, or that Ron Barceló
is made very far from Barcelona
the clock is especially loud
when no one’s around but my sorrow
and I’m sorry for hating the coffee
a beige ghost of our orange past
I still prefer books in paper
the crunch of fresh lives between my fingers
I feel void when I have to listen
to the silence of computer screens
my own life is neatly stapled
to the memo board, no time to breathe
and no time to miss your steady heartbeat
against my ear at the break of dawn
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