your memory is but a cold warmth
compared to the touch of your hand
your eyes sharing secrets
when we inhale and exhale
each other’s breaths
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Love at Present
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Fiction & Poetry Journal of T. Wong
That’s so hard to not have. Its hell. No pretty words can fix it. I feel the space between what is and what ought to be with you.
Glad this resonated with you. Being apart is hard indeed.
Intensely beautiful.
Thank you!
That just about says it all.
=)
Very moving piece!
❤