The Things I'll Never Say

June 18, 2011
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His touch was not soft,
Just hidden behind piteous respect,
An act he claimed and threw off,
And, curled in his pride, he I could not reject. 
His voice, like rocks grinding off each other,
Caught me as bait in his trap,
And I know he'll have another,
Who's sanity will smolder and flap. 

But his eyes were blue with wonder,
As I allowed his pride to strangle me. 
His breath hot, like rolling thunder,
Creating a storm I refused to flee. 
And now, as shards of tears fall,
I know I loved him through it all. 

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