Too much in the green field
and his the grey cloud
Looking back it is robots
speaking of emotion
but with little
at the time so overwhelming
and now the words are crisp
their shelf life meaningless
grab my hand and caress it
with your fine thumbs
read the life of my body
each chapter open to you
every page dog-eared
listening to a sugary silence
it sifts between us
spilling into our smiles
what is happiness
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