You flash me forward to a log cabin
to pine forests
to wooden counters
and solitary hikes
But also to an East Side loft
and the Avett Brothers in my earbuds
and the occaisonal downpour
You smell like coffee grounds in my mind
and match with red plaid flannel
and like guitars
You may never see them all
but they seep through the cracks
like sunlight between blinds
and send a pine-smelling breeze
through the windows of my soul.
Dear Modern Man,
Thank you.
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