Minds play in the same key
building up intensity
in-between space builds anticipation
anima longs for relative minor
secretly curses darkness’ descent
fantasies until sun rises
singing for camphor neck scent
floating on ascending scales
a quickening tempo
mouths open eyes softly close
time sleeps for crescendo
drum hearts play concerto
and settle under skin
invincible until the thick and thin
a tango of scale’s descent
until the final cadence of a question well meant
can we still be friends?

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