woven strands of hair
and heat are hooked
through my eyelids.

why am i ashamed of
my loneliness and my
absolution?

three days until
the countdown,
where i weave my
fingers through
the loopholes in
your hands and try
(in vain)
to have you stay
the night.

forever in an instant
is all i ask, all i ask
is all i have.

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