it was entirely too perfect for it to come from anywhere other than our minds.
i can imagine everything clearly.
the blues and grays,
the biting wind and sharp stinging.
everything was a mess
and everything moved about us in swirls.
we moved it all.
i sat at a desk in a room half-remembered from a dream
but couldn't place its' roots in my mind.
i know those bland walls
and the harsh lights.
we found exactly what we weren't looking for
on blank, cushioned cubes
listening to the whistling
of an already dead woman.
you asked if i wanted to dance like they were
and i said no, not being sure of your sincerity.
i can never be certain of your intentions,
but i want you to know
that the answer is always yes.
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