It was all bubbling over,
into the sky,
above the top,
the very top of the tree,
in the backyard you told me we would end up in,
looking forward to the wraparound porch,
the one that we could get lost in,
like the Broadmoor,
like it was before we were alive,
like when we listened to Moonlight Serenade,
bubbling,
the good kind,
pink champagne kind,
above and beyond
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