My dearest, darling, manic pixie dream girl
The hours are quieter without
There's little to hold to, the days drag on
Less anchored, I invent broad strokes and haunt the abyss
Reduced to naught, touched, seen, smelt, heard, or tasted
Aha, I, a keeper of ideas, know what to do with you
I hurl missiles into the park, so that they do not soil your yard
Wherever you are, there my love seeks comfort
But once more, silence is mandate
So here we are
Apart again
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