Do not tell me everything on skype
leave some things unsaid for
rainy December cafe conversations
Do not send me google maps or coordinates
leave your body uncharted for
rainy December garret explorations
I am well past that point in time
when , had you been here
I would have touched you on the wrist or shoulder
perhaps leant in to pick a piece of lint from your coat
or pushed a stray hair back from your brow
that would have let you know
I had passed that point in time
that point where interest turns to affection.
And if suddenly becomes when.
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