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Nov 2020
Your unsure gestures sought out our bond
In whiskey glasses and cheap cigars,
With no more in common than our blood
That spilt upon lost chances and unspent years.

In that awkward silence we found our home
Those words unsaid were a common tongue,
And now I long to hear such nothings again,
As It was there you were my father and I your son.


TS Lefort November 2020
Written by
TS Lefort  M
(M)   
221
   Jeremy Stacy
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