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Mar 2014
Hello my love,
It's that time of the year again.
I've brought flowers and melancholy.
Time to sit under your oak,
Time to sprawl by your stone.
I wonder if you hear my stories.
Do you see my hot tears?
Are my jokes and pleas swept away on the wind?
Do not say that you cannot hear.
Don't say that you cannot see.
I need you to hear the words I never said.
I need you to see the love I seldom showed.
For I do hear you speak.
I hear you in my most sacred dreams.
I feel the whisper of your breath through these grasses.
I swim in your sound on this hilltop.
Tell me the words that I have been sobbing:
I
Love
You.
Will Justus
Written by
Will Justus  Idaho
(Idaho)   
539
 
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