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What is this..
What am i feeling...
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We don't talk anymore..
You love me no more...
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One day…
I stopped asking things to hold me...
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There is a river I return to
not because it waits for me...
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There was a spring when we mistook beginnings
for permanence...
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It began without ceremony—
no warning worthy of memory...
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It was nothing,
that is the cruelty of it...
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I live in the pause between answers,
in the soft hesitation...
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I keep returning to a memory
that will not stay still long enough...
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You say you’re just waiting,
waiting for me...
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They taught him early—
hands steady, voice level...
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He learns the shape of strength too young—
how to stand like stone while storms pass through...