the sky above my head was positively a summer sky
as the sun settled in the west
and like a brush stroke from a late great artists hand
the blue mixed with the pink
the trees and rooftops looked like silhouettes
feelings and words become wrapped around us
we spoke of french films and how they made us believe in love
you stopped me mid boring sentence, to touch the plastic ring around my neck
‘your glow stick isn’t glowing anymore’
and even though you didn’t know it
you carried my giant heart with you on the bus
and everybody stared at you until you were home.
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