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Out of the Box

Nothing but a feud outlasts a summer night,
for as soon as the sun warm kneels to clear moon
we are in it's grasp and rasp for long breath
resting gently over the arms and past memories of June

My thought takes me to a passing shower
when we ran for cover, hand clasping hand,
drenched and seated at a cafe, sharing an hour,
of stolen words exchanged like contraband

Perhaps it was childish Love in me,
Yet rather than pain from misery
I bathe in the reminiscence of ignorant bliss
mistook an afternoon of kindness for unventured kiss...

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