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how simple, the two of us standing there
one at each sink, passing the dishes between
the silence in the house tucked around
like snowfall discovered at night
so soft I can hear the needle scratch
on the record player
how simple, to softly kiss the smile of your lips
and the pulse of your neck before bed
and later, we will cut your hair out back
in the blue-yellow afternoon
and the birds will come
to make nests of these scattered pieces
one at each sink, passing the dishes between
the silence in the house tucked around
like snowfall discovered at night
so soft I can hear the needle scratch
on the record player
how simple, to softly kiss the smile of your lips
and the pulse of your neck before bed
and later, we will cut your hair out back
in the blue-yellow afternoon
and the birds will come
to make nests of these scattered pieces
I love this. a lot. and you. a lot.
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