Look at me,
waking up thinking
about you, a thousand miles
away. On my finger, a ring,
unmarred, bright with shining
dreams and burdensome
realities. Do you wake
up this way, too—wondering
about me, here in the sun—
on your frost-crisp northern
mornings? Or have the wheels
of your world continued their slow
and steady progress,
carrying, removing
you, ever further away?
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
TeerawatWinyarat
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