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i love poetry, more than i love you cause poetry heals my wounds you only seem to reopen them with triggers and gaslighting a pretty face, appealing eyes but your words hurt i think of our first night often we sat on the couch like teenagers and she don’t usually f- the first night but this was our first night did it with the lights, on food for thought but your fruit was better than i thought lost in your cascades i see where light is created moving faster than sound how could i be so foolish? feeling so strongly, so fast how could i be so naive? thinking this was more than it was but it was, at least for a second i thought, this light could be mines but fireflies only appear in summer nights summers, quicker than the pacific northwest then the rain season returns and i return to my cradle to write to write about a love that never was.