oh it will be June, summer –
 and it will appear as if it is about to rain

the atmosphere will carry a breeze, something that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end 
and we will sit in it -

your hand in mine -

perhaps there isn’t a glorious future for us
that might be a dream that will not fully materialise 

i hear your promises, i touch your skin - none of it feels real - as if a dream 
i believe in us 

the future is a threat 
we do not permit 
to enter our thoughts 

to simply enjoy the present.

kate ©  

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