Higher [Part I]

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The charm… the grace

The faces, the fears

The hotness of winters

And the loudness of tears.

The words, and the gestures,

The wishes left hanging in the air

Only if it could’ve become a private joke.

Little gestures made within indecision.

The sweet breeze hungover with cheer.

The storm rolling inland bears the promise,

Of bringing new showers and more promises.

Unspoken and yet, somehow too obvious.

The arms, the chills, those never quite felt.

The white sea, the foam and frizz.

The damage done the first time

She knows will stay to harm more.

 

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