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May 2016
When my glance meets his stare
I am lost in his eyes.
I panick, burned by the intensity,
And dart my own eyes to the side.
Longing to reach out and trace the lines of his shadowed face out of pure wonder
With my pale, trembling fingers.
Wishing in that same moment,
That I am inside his arms
Where I am home, and steady and at peace.
But when he reaches for me, I begin to tremble, out of fear, the fear of my own heart.
And when I pull away, and my frozen stare meets his burning one,
My mind goes blank and my breathing stops.
I'm a mess
Mary Alexander
Written by
Mary Alexander  The Island of Misfit Toys
(The Island of Misfit Toys)   
424
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