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Dan Houston Jan 2019
Reaching out,
Without moving a muscle.
Wanting to shout,
Not a whisper.
Gears turning,
Behind the windows.
Mind churning,
Covered by a mask.
A smile emerges,
Disconnected.
My body urges,
There is no action.
I want to be close,
Trying to move.
I wish the most,
Holding back.
Scrap from 2018

— The End —