WrYN

I can’t
Help but
Think,

Perhaps
You are

In part

The heat
That leaves
My hands;

Reaching out
To touch
Your memory.

—-

Time
Imprints

Carbon paper
Pages of
Your face;

Each
Preceding

A lesser
Opaque
Impression.

—-

If I Squint
Minds eye
Hard,

I can
Still glimpse
Your mouth;

Crinkling
And curving

with Meaning,

Only for
Those with
eyes To see.

—-

You were
So much
alive In there;

Pouring out
Your whole,

And
I was So
Thirsty
To Know.

—-

What behind
The scenes
Sparks do
You hide
Now?

Let me linger
Too long………………..

Circumnavigate
The threshold

Of being Bored
at the Thought
Of you.

I’m still
Not Quite
There yet.

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