Some might call this love a pyre never on fire, weathered like it’s wood.
Lost in the years between chances, still part of me dances each time you walk in a room
There’s no subtlety to loving you should be a cascade, I let it slip away, for fear of ever being too see through, cause transparencies not part of you and me and you know this to, be true.
People say “god loves a trier” and I’ll never tire of showing proof. Everyone else is the crescent and If I’m in your presence it lifts me up.
Cause there is majesty to how you move, with lost grace, now I’ve, misplaced the side of me that tries to play it cool. As we take a walk, I hardly talk for fear I’ll speak the truth, to you.
We sit alone by the embers coldest December couldn’t steal our warmth. Frozen In silence between us I’m a defeatist and I drift...
If there’s a latency to these home truths, then I don’t want to know, I’d rather breathe slow, and contemplate the risk of losing you. Now I’m skipping beats, and I beg and plead, don’t ever tell me if you feel it too. Don’t you?
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