Lately I struggle to breathe
like I did once.
Bound lungs
set in apprehension of you
looking in reflections of windows
hoping to see a shadow walk by
not turning my head
when I pass
as if I wouldn't notice
all of your 115 pounds
of confused persona
I miss.
Hoping the bike lane is taken up
by you and I
wanting nothing more
than excuse to say
I miss doing nothing with you.
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