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Lost
MattPat

Lost
 1
 
 
To hold her arms and brush
 2
With withered fingers (twigs).
 3
We are trees left abutting,
 4
Boasting of our loveliness.
 5
 
 
Now with tenderness, a kiss
 6
To her gentle, rosy cheek.
 7
Eyes sincere as fields of grain,
 8
Rolling, endless sunsets,
 9
Her eyes, those sunsets—
 10
Unforgivable.
 11
 
 
I hear her now, her voice
 12
Lofted slow on whispered wind
 13
To let my ear know worried soul
 14
And sigh a dream a ways away:
 15
Call it love, and covet fate,
 16
Call not this twixt love and hate.
 17

11 Feb 07


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