Michelle II

Awkward and shy, passing each other.
Smiles, eyes turning, glancing back, turning.
A sweetness, my emptiness could smother.
A pin prick of blood calls up this yearning.

In the park, my hideaway, stars starting to call.
The moon whispers the dreams I thought lost.
Hearts and stars and angels can so easily come a fall.
May I kiss her, hold her, make her mine by first frost?

A winter night by a fire, I’d tell her the tales of gods and men.
A tale of fate and devotion and the lengths to touch a lover’s soul.
A tale where good and love and all the righteous ones do win.
A tale that is really about me and her, and how she made me whole.
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