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with dusk falling
words will not cross my lips
though you tempt my poet’s heart
its gentle beating is content
warm and dreary
as smiles
take silence to new planes

I am lost
melting with raindrops
fingers entwined with yours
making a parachute in case
a gust of wind
tempts our mortality
and speeds us
towards our dreams

we visit thunderheads
and watch the birth
of lightning fantasy
silent white wisps
through the electric fog
shooting us back to the flash
of our love

just for one moment
we allow the rest of the world
the joy of whispering
about our secret stars

. . .