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Feb 2014
All those secrets that you kept,
All entitled to confess
that I loathed before we met,
that I wished for your caress.

All those secrets that you trade,
All those moments I adored,
when I dreamed of us before we fade
and I grasped your hand until we soared.

All those secrets are now gone,
only truth surrounds the wound,
conversations that let on
confrontations till’ we swooned.
Edgar Mirán
Written by
Edgar Mirán
275
 
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