It Ain’t Me

When white light was nice in your eyes

When your skin was insecure and sweet

Wet. Unafraid but innocent and maybe free

When hair was everywhere you didn’t care.

Soft. Inoffensive and brash

When it felt good to be tired and it was ok to sleep

When there was no time for season

One time we can get to see again

When breathing echoed in liquid movement

Drained away like fear and knowledge

Warm. Waves and moans on cold sheets you love

That’s what I think of when I hear that song by Dylan

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