Thirteen/ not in love.

I’m not in love with you. 

Atleast, I’m not in love with

the kindness you give away like 

it costs nothing, not

in love with your bashful 

smile when you catch

someone looking, not in love

with the way you feel a 

little bit like home; I’m not 

in love with you.

But sometimes, I get a bit

dizzy when I look at you,

thinking of all the 

possibilities we’ve always 

had, that I’ve always

discarded, sometimes I feel

a bit at ease when I talk

to you, like just for a second

the sky isn’t falling anymore,

but I’m not in love with you.

No, not at all.

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