Tell me, how has it been a year,
since you slipped away from me?
And how could I still want you here
when you can’t commit completely?
This little city that gave me hope
has grown into the Winged Victory.
Full and ready for flight
on any given day or night,
but you’re not here to see.
No longer an empty void, and
neither broken nor destroyed,
you’re now a beautiful memory.
I’ve just never met quite a match
who could set such a raging fire
that lit up every molecule
and blazed beyond desire.
But, here I am one year later,
sitting quietly in my bed,
waiting for my mother
and you’ve popped back into my head.
I had a dream quite recently
that you came back to OKC.
You sent me a message against my will.
You wanted to see me.
So, I write this little poem,
because you’ll see it–this I know.
I wish you peace, love, and happiness
in every single place you go.

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