She’s been making plans.
It’s morning, and we’re standing
in front of the open closet door.
Let’s go exploring.
No, today I’d rather stay inside,
at a heavy wooden table,
in a dark, Gothic library. But wouldn’t
you like to see the sun? I’d rather
dream it than see it; it burns brighter
in my imagination.
We have to share.
I know that.
How? I don’t know. So,
your way doesn’t lead
to answers. And neither
does yours.
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