Unsaid
You smile of your inner child
eggs on the sunnier side,
I like life like my OJ
straight off the vine
ripe
in intricacies and taste-but-not-tell-imperfections
sublime.
A game to read
between the lines that chime in your head
I am
vintage songs you but started collecting
new and familiar
like the drive ahead
full of down-windows-hair
where I hold the keys to the vibe and we’re
fine fellowed friends that jive
to the sound of no cares.
Day to day we gather earnings
pennied learnings
mountains steeping in wishing
wells where we pretend to not play
our selves undeserving
of the breakfast together where we break
fast in ifs and whethers
wondering in this day and age
if the climate change is better.
The truth be not told,
what’s left unsaid is still known.
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