it’s been a month since we’ve talked
good thing i haven’t counted—
the seconds do pile up.
i hear your voice at inopportune times
like when i want to forget you—
your timbre is ingrained.
when i close my eyes i see you smiling
in a way that’s supernova—
stars died for you; as well me.
© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.
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