Almost Midlane

 

the nights are passing by
So are the shadows
And the weak links
Between light posts
And the moon
The sky
And the water dripping off
From a chilled cup
To our hands
Because we are warm
Then we are warmed
By our shoulders
Rubbing
Hands
Looping around necks
As each car
Rolls around
Curves around the street
And we are walking
In circles
To find something out of touch
When our eyes became out
Of sight
That when memories
Come to every tree
And every path
Where grasses have grown
Our subtle indifference
To what we may become
And what we won't care about
Sometimes the light is too
Hesitant
To pass through our walls.

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