need you know
where people go,
with the mouth lightly open
and fingers that suddenly tighten
involuntarily.
your face signals me,
the swaying pitch of your tone,
or is it in some other way
i can't quite rest my chin on
or put my finger on
like the pulse of your heart rate.
you are here,
but you go elsewhere
and my spending seems to evaporate;
my fading time against the light years
of your still age.
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