good afternoon, all humbled

i stood at the back of the room
listening intently
i clapped as the music faded out
i was kind of blue
and sort of expecting something
to land next to me
a girl of twenty-three
and i, the lowly tree ghost
no no, the supposed so

she captured me on canvas
painting with melted crayons
there’s nothing left to save us
so away i ran
to the center of town
no, the outskirts of the city
with my back against the wall
crossed-legged and sitting

i am humbled at the thought
of you and i alone
across from the lakeshore
throwing stones
and skipping them across the water
teasing canopies above
what makes no sense to me
is the closet
filled with love’s lost love
alone with your thoughts
stay close
or go home

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