Far, Far Away

September 7, 2012
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The fine line between conversation.
The unstable barrier of communication.
We fight through it, our love our shield.
But right now, nothing appeals.
For I am sitting here, watching the clock.
The rest of souls talking, a flock.
A crystal tear rolls down my cheek.
I bite my lip as I begin to weep.
I shakily reach for your hand.
You will not let my love slip, like sand.
We hold each other as we walk on glass.
You are gentle, and don't take things fast.
We shield each other through the cold snow.
For it is you, my love, that I know never will go.

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