Lover-girl.
For Revanth.
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The third week after you left,
I stepped on
the weighing scale.
The sharp, unkind numerals glare at me.
it must be...
warmth,
compliments,
smiles,
and care,
-
you -
who once weighed me down, beautifully
crushed me, softly,
so the tenth digit slipped,
and I became a little lighter,
a little
less.
My favorite shape might be
circles
This rhythm feels like home, and ease,
a constant spin with
no degrees.
There’s comfort in the
symmetry,
in knowing that leaving, means
finding you again,
no need to flee.
I trace the constant - you
- an endless, gentle loop.
Without an edge or corner,
no foresight to oversee.
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