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Feb 2016
Sometimes I feel the gentle
caress of your weeping palms sweep over my skin,
Where romance dances so spontaneously within her touch.
If love was the foam floating in
calm oceans,
I'd ride the majestic waves to her beating heart.
I would endlessly drift among her soul watching her shapeless thoughts smile,
As I wave goodbye.
A million passing years inside,
I would love her always and a day.
I have loved many,
But there is always one that is never forgotten.
I struggle to remain entwined with her crisp fingers,
Where the splinters still sting.
Imperfection is but a delicate flower,
Woe is me.
Silence is but the loudest scream never heard,
And the moon had shined like it has never before.
This eternal serene travels through the sound of her voice,
That imprints on angels.
I must devout my love,
Forever true.
Within her existence I find peace,
Where I am never alone.
Written by
John michalski  Indiana
(Indiana)   
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