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Synchronicity

As fainting

into stoveflame.

Brokenhearted.

Take a forceful breath at

the window. Our faces

frame

the glass. And falling, falling.

Mouth sounds

steeped in milky

thoughts. Downward

with the purpose

of terminal

velocity. Find us a cliff

where storms lose

their way.

Feet splayed

at the

utter edge.

Published by debjoel