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Your chest never laughs 
Along with you anymore;
I miss the the way he
Assigned sincerity to sound.

 You auctioned the luxture 
Of your eyes
To hold another’s gaze,
To wink and other dynamics.

The stretch marks, why did
You write them off?
They were the pleasant flaw that
Gave weight to your versatility.

Perfection is a big ask
For a universe this flawed.
When one has it, 
It burdens the mind.

You just don’t know how
It feels to have more than
One perfect thing.
Just an iPhone is enough for me.

Please go!

©herbertuba2017

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