the picnic table, examining
the stars.
my neighbor love,
just ten
and eleven
we were
and yet, what feelings
we carried
within our
hearts.
what wasn't new then?
each star,
each breath,
each gaze into one
another's eyes.
i could hardly breath
around
her.
touching her hand,
would
the beginning
of a life
of love, yet in the end,
all from afar.
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