on that night, i fell in love four times
and watched you read between the lines
and color me impressed at how the night walked,
stumbled over questions asked
and feelings buried under something blunt.
when i talk to you,
i need to hear the truth.
we need to be up front,
not lagged behind with incense ashes
and empty bottles of wine,
cool words,
that sweet smell of time,
and when the door closed,
that sounded like one last breath,
and i stood,
white from secrets kept
and problems written off,
charmed by words you said,
even though we didn't talk.

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