because, tell me i’m here.

she stands.
i picture your face, yet, i’ve never met you.
i want to look in the window.
but there’s something dark. cryptic. captivating. black.
but’s it’s okay, color is so overrated (and does it truly exist, anyway?)
but i imagine bleu skies. because, if i’m in a bleu wintery mood, your sky would be bleu.

i made all this up. i think i have a good imagination. i wonder if i’m really here?

and, if i travel backward, my brain and my body might find you. my soul already did.
i need coordination. but i am wondering if i’m really here?


/drunk post.  (not as dangerous as drunk selfies)

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