I don’t know what’s real or not

I don’t know what’s real or notI know it’s realwhen you ate that orange with sheer delightand licked your lipswhen there’s a far-off tone to your voicewhen I heard your breath during sunrise It may be unrealwhen you dissipate from thoughts like the shifting of sandswhen you’re not who I want to hold hands withas

The morning sky’s red orange, and I’m mixing, rolling, and folding unfolding.

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