Map to your face
Maps of our shadows
the floor plan of our future
drawn with our conversations without view of your features.
with your voice mesmerisingly detached,
it is the invisible line, puncturing through the chest to connect
us to our talks about travel,
us to our oneiric strolls along what happened to you before,
listening to what we are to see after.
Now we are glad, to remain at the depth of this place
where you agreed
too profane and too clumsy to name
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