it's about two wide yellow lines.
that bare the foretold.
the oncoming.
brace it head on.
the coffee ring from
your last cup.
you sat across from me.
and rubbed your thumb
across my palm.
i smiled.
it's about left turns
that should have been right.
and bluegrass that was the counterpart
to the sky's canopy.
it's about pages
that's edges are starting to fray.
there's comfort found in
knowing that something has been read that much.
perhaps, there is understanding in there.
the last kiss shared
in the rain
on a june night.
where the wind whistles and the sky is grey.
it's about undefined faith.
that causes a hearts promise to fade.
and ripple.
all because your finger touched.
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