Meteorite shower of thoughts It is the blue dress, The graceful glide. A reflex smile as I go to greet her. The pillar parts, To reveal hay hair, framed in dark, After a flood of desert sun. We talk, I articulate in two languages, and listen, A flowchart of thoughts for each sentence Its arms rearranged, discarded, One is chosen. In one hour, a #life of unheard conversations, Some would lead to tears, And one, One would change reality.
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