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■ The oak
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I cannot imagine you other than next to me
hands touching in tiny gestures eye reflected in eye, iris lost in iris brown meeting deeper brown lip meeting complementary lip us, taken as one even though only for the brief moment until life comes between us reminding us what we are I cannot remember your face other than drawn by my fingers dream dying useless at the meeting of cold skin on burning skin creating reality I cannot lock us in the memory of the second stolen from life and fate, going opposite ways and cannot dare to relive the sensation too much for fear I might lose you in details I love you in between seconds stopping time between long breaths of air elongating moments while dreaming of a polar night for us, to set on fire
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