Close the door to yesterday.
It's gone.
Forever disappearing in
Recesive memories.
My heart's not ready, not yet.
Listen: crickets tuning strings.
I like the way you walk,
The way you walk to meet your friends.
To meet your friends with such a happy gait,
With such a happy gait as if to say,
As if to say:
"Hey world, they're mine
And I theirs!"
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