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left behind

darling,

i had the realization

tonight

that someday

i’ll have to

throw you away,

your toothbrush

your glasses

your socks

your shoes

the suit you wore

when i turned 60 —

please tell me

you’ll wear a suit

when i turn 60

even if you’re the

only man

in the world

who still does —

and i wanted

to start bawling.

i don’t even 

know you

yet!

and yet i

could feel the

weight

of missing you

from night ’til

morning,

brave-heart.

or maybe it

will be you

throwing me

away,

brushing the

unruly silver hairs

off my pillow

for the last time

before the dawn.

is it selfish to say

i’d rather

not stay behind

if we

could walk together

into sunrise?

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