For Nic

You met me on the morning when

My organs were hanging off my body like branches

You looked at me and I said,

“There are two types of people in this world; intense weirdos or sheep”

And there is no sitting on the fence

You say,

“I believe in reincarnation”

And that maybe our souls have collided in in centuries before

That we may have been birds flying together through

Skies without planes and pollution

Overlooking a healthier world with more trees than tall buildings

I know we both wake each morning and cannot adjust

To a sick society as easily as everyone else

But you and I

We met like medicine


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