reality is.

reality is. 

       i can bleed you into 

       all these lines,

       breathe your existence 

       into my own,

       sink into nostalgia 

       at every sign-

but you are not the comet

i’ve waited for. 

reality is. 

        you can reach out to me

        for blessed audience,

        catch your soul in your throat

        when you think you see me,

        fade into black,

        reach out to catch me-

but i am not the satellite

to orbit you. 

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