Vermont
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He went for my forehead and I went for his lips,
He slowly pulled away and I quickly pulled him closer,
Grabbing his arm as he grabbed my waist,
Soft sweet lips touching and I think I’m enjoying it,
Count the stars illuminating Vermont’s mystic forests
On a late night in June
Count the notes the chickadees exchange there
Slightly out of tune
Count the buttons you’ve collected in an old shoe box
