misty voices of the past
coming forth to greet the future.
Did you know then?
Or was I but a hint of nightblooming jasmine
on a sultry Florida night without an answer?
You, my beloved,
have never stopped coming to me,
even through confounding tangles
of the tangible world,
yet now in person,
the dream was so much less than the reality.
Where were we when lost
within now decaying days past?
Does it really matter?

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byquietpoet© 3 comments/ 2045 views/ 0 favorites

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