A post phonecall thought;

Love’s never easy, but I do wish he would try.
I still read beautiful things from roses.
We are waiting on a holiday.
He jokes that we can be determinated anytime by notice, alike a law entity creation.
I am afraid that I will grow to be an afterthought.
I am fearful that I already am.
It is these difficult things that I read from the leftover tea leaves.
But I have read too much, and still the world will be beautiful.


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