I knew you before
you knew of me.
A line across the palm,
a ship chartered out
to open sea, a moth
clinging to a small crack
in the plaster ceiling.
Just because I breath
does not mean I love you.
This too, is dream, curtains
in an evening's breeze,
sounds of thunder just
beyond the blackened fields,
pounds the sky like two
stones clapped together,
then, a faint drizzle.
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