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Apr 2013
The silence is a blank.
Nothingness.
Only he can fill the space
That strange, curious being.

My heart heaves, beckoning to him.
that man.
that girl.
that wonder.

I am so lonely- lone, lonesome, unaccompanied.
But there is a key for every lock.
A silence for every cry.
Hope.
It's a patient thing.
Hope.

That human, who i crave, is full of life.
Laughs, smiles, in spite of my quirky mind.

In cold, rainy days
she dances/he dances in poetry,
with an unnamed beauty.

his warmth fills
a thousand bitter caverns,
a thousand ice wastes.

and My eyes closes at night,
comforted by love itself.
Because his love has a tomorrow.
Her love guarantees another day.

No-one is made of stone,
least of all me,
with my queer little ways,
and my fantastical mind.
but he accepts that,
welcomes that, a
s a completion to a set.

A rebel,
a stallion within a field of ponies.
Red, fiery red,
not afraid to be free.
does what he wants,
when she wants,
despite the obstacles.
A perfect imperfection.

But I'm dreaming.
She is impossible.
He is impossible...
The curious and lonesome search of a man and a woman...
Anonymous
Written by
Anonymous  NYC
(NYC)   
753
   Tyler Lynn Pulliam and Cass
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