Her voice trails off in the distance
As I sit and ponder the weight of the moment
Her eyes speak to me in slow soft cyphers
That dance with the hum of windshield wipers
My thoughts play tricks on my instincts
As she sits and wonders how much I’m decoding
A glance to betray that I see it all perfect
To step in the fire and know that it’s worth it
Unfinished sentences hang in the air
Like finely pressed roses tucked into a page
Unwritten endings and meaningful stares
Ghosts of the things we pretend are not there
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