Thursday:
Boxes and bags cramp the kitchen floor,a maze to navigate to reach you,
arms extended, I find your hips
hidden under black shorts
and I drag you, helpless,
through the collection
of our collective
up the stairs
into our
room.
Friday:
I'm young, but I'm growing older.
I'm ignorant, but I'm learning.
I'm angry, but I'm focusing.
I'm in love, but I'm open.
I'm tired, but soon I'll be sleeping with you.
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