She sat straight up & rubbed her eyes, yawning. The wind
sounded like you, waking her up from her sleep, but she didn't let the dream linger,
not without company. She pulled out her phone & replayed the last voicemail
you left her, a voice reality can never grasp again. Listening to that voice
allowed her to get held by you again; and embrace that she could never capture
an elaborate scribbles on the page, with smell & touch being the only
sensations described, all of it is you, but not you at all, it'll never be the
same.
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