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Aug 2011
The bond between us
does not quite speak to the stars
as precious carvings
but as seeds of happiness.
Here you see me in thought
rearranging reflections inside a message
held in glass.

Far away I hold my breath
then let it out to chase dream-filled sleep.  
Soft sighs escape
streaming through the night
in shells of kisses
moving ultimately to form this lovely
smile I keep.

Quivering inside my dreams
are elaborate colors
that dance on my tongue.
I taste them as whispers of you.
The bond between us does not quite
speak to the stars, but here
in my dreams is sung.
Neva Flores Varga Smith
Written by
Neva Flores Varga Smith  53/F/Rochester NY
(53/F/Rochester NY)   
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