A little breeze made me shiver
your chosen words
all a-quiver
in my breast.
Hateful breeze that once caressed
your cheek,
or fondled you hair
so fair.
Fair that it should be
here,
and you my love
over there?
Gentle breeze,
I beg your pardon
linger in my dusky garden.
Whispering
about his lips,
and how it felt to caress,
the thing that I can not posses.
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