High Noon

And in all of this.

Through all this photo reel.

Through all the words I wrote

and erased and composed and

poured into.

In all the sleepless nights

and starlit drives

and parking lots

and chance and odds,

there lingers a version so different

than the reality that came to be known.

In all of this

it will be looked for and memorized,

through all the rising suns

and dipping moons,

 

for it will always pain me

to miss you in the noon.

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