late spring afternoon

one day the two galaxies will collide
and form a black hole

she was lying on the couch next to him
her thin legs where on the couch arm
in this late spring afternoon slumber

he was drawing letters in the air
the letters where slowly weightlessly levitating
he made words out those letters
words formed meaningless sentences
then they flew away through the open window
like a flock of the Canadian geese

her dream was about that little house
late spring afternoon
where she was lying on the couch
with him
he was there, next to her
(she missed his smell)

she saw the lines of words flying into
the black hole

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