i blew you off
like a dead dandelion
floating on a stiff breeze.
lying to ourselves
about wanton desires.
we're dry timber
just waiting for a spark.
lightning never strikes
the same hearts twice
so i walked away.
made your argument
against deaf ears.
you can't see that
we're helen keller,
trying to traverse
a great divide with
none of our senses intact.
just let your fingertips
slip a little and
we'll both be free.
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