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Aug 2019
Sometimes I want to hold.

Sometimes I want to be held.

I'd rather not ruminate upon her face, study it on the canvas in my mind, because I am reminded of the distance between us, separated by seas of immeasurable volume, not unlike my fidelity.

No placemarker could ever feel the same.

There has never been such serenity as the time she let my fingers play in her hair, and dance along her forhead, while she was resting beside me in a bed that was too large for the room.

Did she feel the quickening of my pulse? My recess was not timorous, but rather love, respect, and desire to be who she needed.

It was later that I learned
I waited long and lost my turn.

Energy never dies,
But it changes like the ocean tide.
Like I, evaporated to the sky.

Like she, wonderment in definition."
I wrote the poem this afternoon. The title is just because I cannot think of a decent one. I get busy so I don't write as much poetry as I used to.
Cecil Miller
Written by
Cecil Miller  Louisiana
(Louisiana)   
367
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