Lavender and Gold
The window opens
to
you smiling frankly
among lavender and gold,
talking to yourself in
whispers too soft to decode.
I sneak a peek
when you think no one's
looking, and see it
shining
in the kind lines of your
complicated palm,
wearing a smile of its own.
A coin
with three sides,
glowing in seasons
wet from
cold and ice,
withered like
a winter with no spring
taking up space,
full of value
but no worth,
a piece of history
in the absence of rebirth,
singing openly,
singing free,
haunting you,
taunting me.
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