Because even our moments were fleeted to pass.
Your mouth like a string to strum.
Your mouth like a string to strum.
Even then our misundstoods were glorious.
Your words like colors that chimed through wind.
Your words like colors that chimed through wind.
Even though our connections were poor.
Your breath like the fold of a sheet, slept in.
Even though our hearts bleated at trespass.
Your heaves and cries like the pillowed down, extended.
Even because our words were tainted.
Your skin like an odyssey to learn.
When even our silents went too long.
Your eyes an eave of travel.
Because the heart has its limits.
Your heart this limit to hold.
Because terrain is traversable.
Your touch like an epic to undertake.
Because time and space are imaginary halts.
I will find you, I will find you, I will find you.
I will find you, I will find you, I will find you.
Because limits are rises on terrain.
Your words like the wind that tempers its shades.
Your words like the wind that tempers its shades.
Because even our distances are not so great.
Your taste like a honey to drink.
Because the heart does not know its limits.
Your heart this limit to find.
Your heart this limit to find.
© 2012 – Mark A. Douglas – All Rights Reserved
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