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Loose thread
fell by providence, held by the same
the idea of loving now still sounds insane
as we sit laughing about nothing
and your hands find a home in my own
and my heart recognises that it doesn't sit alone
moved with uncertainty of the assurance of the road
we both walk
the desire which loneliness brought
to inspire a picture of the world of which we alone
are cropped
tell me do we still stand a chance?
numb staring at the view of a vicious expanse
between us
tempted to think of all impossibility
to standby glaring at your benignity
unable to touch though, aware that there are many
others who would want to feel
what I too want to feel
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