I missed it the moment it went missing like an old ache I
mistake as missing until it is gone, and I ach to have it back, the face I see
still in the half remembered dreams I know I’ve dreamt yet can’t get back in
focus once I am awake – that face she posted then removed and replaced only not
quite the same face, resurrected, more doubtful, even in the depths of her eyes
that still drawn me to look into for too long, maybe with a tinge of the old
fear she felt way back when I doubted myself, this face, these eyes, those
precious lips, stirring up the broth with a slow simmer to an intense boil –
again.
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