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4444

stay
that I might
give to you my story –
a page or two
as payment for a kiss
how long til
you’ve discovered
breathing born of rhyme
will beyond
these places we exist
a poem
oft repeated
just before the darkness stirs
in reverie
this wonder to reclaim
words –
where none are needed
linger yet
upon my lips –
sweetened by the memory
of your name

. . .

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