I’ve heard it called an illusion
this divide between you and I
The further I go into it, the more I understand
that you are a kirlian photograph of me
My legs are a soft impression of yours
Your dreams are fragments in the brushing of my teeth
We’ve already traded one million molecules by now
My laughter is your sigh tomorrow
Your heartbreak is the breath I take
The salve for our conjoined amnesia
is the rainbow glow of our own little centers
Remember this,
We are all related
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