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were you always
a face in the crowd
someday – a destiny true
a voice on the wind
reminds me again
the place
(I remember)
as you

was our moment
no more than a dream
a kiss at the gate —
(letting go)
we lingered that day
as time slipped away
to truths
we were destined
to know

was our purpose
a blessing (to touch)
faded – a photograph now
of strained black and white
conceded to light –
far more than this world
would allow

was your whisper
the song I would hear —
an echo of longing
out loud
is yesterday gone
(or still holding on)
your face –
in a crowd

. . .