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You pull on me
mocking gravity
you are catching
me in ways wooden
splinters do socks,
I like you a lot.
You’re the winter’s
electric shock that
I don’t retract from
and I can’t tell you
why I’m more worried
about the meantime
than I am with your
leaving. I know I’ll
feel the fall and you
will be gone with the
season and I guess
there’s no need to
justify because I’ve
never had a reason.
We’ll probably move
along as if we’d never