Winter days in July

A collage of people
blend into one blurry rainbow,
like a worm in a slur of colours

I craved the touch of unsure hands
and the ring of your laughter,
do you miss me too?

or am I a polished portrait with carved flowers
in the hall of your memories,
a still picture hosting an empty me?

the moon casts my shadow
that holds your hand
on the road you walk,

and eyes that see
the tug of a smile
that warms winter days in July

now I overlook
the lacerating remarks,
the read receipts of snubbed texts

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