Analysis

Little did you know that I watched,
enchanted by soft movements,
gentle as the summer rain.

Time stood still while this moment
roared with pregnant serenity,
your fingers curled around
the page edges.

As you read, I read too,
your quizzical look, the sudden
bursts of joyful laughter,
stunned beyond borders.

But the greatest story does not end,
tended as it is by love and the
unending rush linking desolate hands.

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Filed under Love, Philosophy, Poetry, Reading

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