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Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Unrequited.


The bee waiting for the
flower to bloom.
The cup of chai
losing its steam. 
A soldiers widow still
groping for the familiar touch. 
A lover waiting for his beloved
as the darkness falls. 
Unspoken words
stained ink on paper.  
Written letters
locked in the cupboard. 
Eyes tightly shut. 
Unrequited.
I am not sad she said no. Just happy I asked. 
Unrequited. 

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