On Repeat

A leftover love exists only in reading between the lines
The emotions of the day slipping through
Cracks in words
(Cracks, where the light gets in and
The love slips out like foolishness)
Tenderness in the shape of sand slipping through fingertips
On dry beaches
Romantic with no sense of purpose
The grooves in our hearts are developed by habit
Dreams that perpetuate early morning thoughts of
Someone else in all their someone else-ness
Repeating the same stories
Though history is the same story repeated over and over
Again until somebody believes it
What is the observational threshold
Between two people who loved and who
Never loved at all

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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