it's ashame i don't know you.
i read all the things you write
and wonder why we never met outside,
in someplace real.
handpicked flowers from some tall boy
who dreams of chasing cats,
and girls,
and love.
real love.
oh what a match.
you're everything i dreamed of once before.
you came to my front door
and smiled
and said,
"hello miss."
as you leaned over next to me
and softly kissed my cheek.
just the way you would do
if i was the one you could meet.
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