reminds me of
the times
15 year old Machu would come over
to my lopsided house
and we would sit and talk until
we grew tired
and i would put on Devendra
and we would fall asleep
on my tiny twin bed
our arms slightly touching
(arms upon arms)
the sun would be almost going down
sliding through the bay windows
through my blanket curtains
and Devendra's voice
breaking
over the small guitar
sound
there were no other sounds
during these times
all you could hear was that magic
in my temple
room
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