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Aug 2014
Rough seas in the morning
whitecaps litter all distances
the space
between sunrise and starlight
the space
between you and I

I reach for you....

Does my voice touch
what my hands
cannot?
What only stars can
see?
Missing me
where did you go
when we stopped talking
that June morning,
silence,
the dark sentinel
erasing your existence?
Wade Phillips
Written by
Wade Phillips
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