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Jan 2020
I long for you like the grass for the rain
And I remember that voice, as distinct as the sound of storms in the city, as the cars splash by
The thought of you will bring me pain
A mere shadow at the end of the hallway
Or the silence at the end of the day
Unnerving, reserved, wonderful
Like a phantom the image of you is fleeting
But I will always remember those blue eyes, and drowning in them
I can no longer hear you speak in the back of my mind
Yet your words feel like my own
Your voice feels like safety, like home
Now shrouded by fog
Perhaps we’ll meet again
Maybe just for one day
Eleanor Sinclair
Written by
Eleanor Sinclair  24/F/The Enterprise
(24/F/The Enterprise)   
281
   Michael Messinger and Desire
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