Marking one year since the dreamy, movie-like disaster that was our encounter, does Saturday's party.
Clinging to the possibility of there ever being a poetic resolution.
Knowingly,
Realizing that I hold on to you because there is no one else to attach to.
I would like to describe our recent non-encounters as the universe's will.
Sadly,
I also want to believe the reality that is the casualty I need it to be.
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