I used to count them.
Add seven to whatever number that came.
Imagine new ones. Heart-shaped, of course.
Dream they turned a brand new shade of orange-pink overnight.
It never happened.
I used to count on you, too.
Seven days a week, but not really on Mondays.
Imagine a new us. Love-drunk, of course.
Dream we turned a brand new shade of inseparable overnight.
It never happened.
No more accounting.
I've always been much too dreamy for math.
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