We talk and laugh and hug.
We talk again about the stupid diary entry.
He hugs me tightly and
reminds me again that
humans often wait till it's too late;
they sing praises of the ones they love
only after death.
We look deep into the wells of our souls,
hugging tightly
and understand what we have to do.
We make a pact.
As we continue to live
what little time we have left together,
we will try to think each other as dead.
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