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Pocket Dictionary

our language of the dream journey and chasing the sunset where the goodbyes were ‘sweet dreams’ and hellos were ‘how’d you sleep?’ our language of new recipes and qawalis and drives after 11 pm our language of spontaneous secret gifts and a sleepy morning kiss a conversation entirely in gifs our language of stolen glances and shared giggles and wiggled eyebrows our language of trying different foods and sitting on the roof watching the birds go home, knowing I already was with phrases that paint small canvases and large bedroom walls our language of touch and heavy breathing and soft snores a cadence with as much depth in its silence as in its words pillowtalk that’s traveled from barren deserts to towering peaks and settled by the shore our language that resides between the lines of poetry and in the oasis of local nurseries a whisper as soft as driving and pulling my hand into your lap our language of bargained massages and afternoon naps

our language that I spent all this time becoming fluent in only to move to another world and never be able to speak it again

our language that’s now a silent prayer whispered to foster the delusion that perhaps this wasn’t our end –

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