The Undecided

August 30, 2010
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Discriminating stranger,

In your map of purple gauze

I find retreat.

In cool hands,

Calm and collected is solace.

And as the words escape your lips

This foreign language melts my heart

With the ability

To burn.

Could I recover

After giving what’s not mine?
The unexpected leaves one gaurded,

Yet a single glance has me stripped

Of all precaution,
And I find myself lost

In the promise of a stranger.

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