Indecision with blinders

I’ll have dreams

about your smile

But maybe after

a long long while,

I’ll forget your lips are perfect.

Choosing not manifestations

That grow deep into

complacency, killing

the kindness that roots

between us,

I’ll have dreams

about your crooked teeth,

And the way your tongue

was harsh, flicking sweet

poison up against them.

Choosing affirmations from my

heart and mind,

and all the beauty in between.

You never had a sense of humor.

I’ll have dreams

about your wide eyed stare

And the way it

always pierced me, making me fall

cold into a darkness.

Choosing not to keep my feet 

in place. Walking,

walking,

always walking.

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