My laughter feels strange sometimes:
compassion and a little empathy,
acceptance and gratitude;
Like butterflies on my neck,
they drift in the dusk and crawl
into cracked, adobe walls.
I liked you best through the window.
(With thanks to Ubu, Dark Destiny, Butterflies 512, Amused Musings, Freaky Freaky 469 and Luigi thicket for your lines that I enjoyed enough on 2nd March to form this Cento)
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