Your sister wants to take a photograph
of us standing together. It's the first
time in three weeks or more we've touched each other
non-accidentally. I feel a sudden rush
of desire as you put your hand on my shoulder,
as I put my arm around your waist. We smile
towards some distant trees, so bright with summer
we have to close our eyes. I know
what happened next, getting back together
then breaking up again, but what
about that other couple, still together, smiling
at a view that won't grow darker, won't develop for them.
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