true love waits
on the cups we drink
hovering over children as they sleep
in the ponds at night
and puddles of crimson blood
in the things i want to say to you
forming the white noise in the back of my head
in my tongue that can never speak
in the pool
waiting for you to jump in
and the power that sits on the tips of your fingers
turning broken glass into mirrors
in in the air you breathe
and the air you don't
in the walls of your house
where you punch the air in protest
that love does not exist
that is where i am
true love waits
like a virus rounding everyone into one small space
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