The skirmishes between you and I
the neglect of this between-ness
the denial of that something
the passing of those clouds.
The intransigence of your
uplifted, clenched fist
yet not so uplifting
yet not so intransigent.
The waving of the trees
shaking off their age
resistant they are
in apathy they rest.
Shall we rest half-heartedly
in apathy -?
Shall we let the breeze
pass through?
Shaking off our bugging out
fists to hands and hugs.
Breathing between the end-of-record
and the upper case.
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