twice in his life,
very unusual, I know, it
seems too few
for the length of our
intersection,
His wavy black hair
brushing against my cheek,
by the stream
together in July,
is as good a memory
as we will ever have,
Though that first night
he gazed deep into my eyes
I think he grew tired,
his pensiveness gave way
to sleep, and
his steps were heavy again,
So I just wanted to see
if he brushes his hair
and wears proper clothes,
he should look good
for someone,
more than twice.
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