Pieces of me, pieces of you,
scattered across the cobblestones,
sparkling from every crevice,
dangling from every tree,
shaping every cloud.
I kneel here and there,
pikcing them like shells along the beach,
a fine collection of tender looks,
kisses and smiles,
the shape of your beautiful hands.
They are all mine.
They're everywhere, the pieces.
I fold them neatly inside my chest,
behind the moisture in my eyes,
inside these expectant lips,
waiting for the day,
you'll come and spring them out.
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