And then,
I just wanted to sleep,
rather than know,
or wait,
or wish,
or lose my imagination.
I would favor the laughs
smiles,
eyes that spoke
with desire
a passionate embrace
you held me.
Then what is it,
a storm overhead,
suddenly the words
stop,
pause in inspiration
a sabbatical.
Yet, we return,
always turning back,
a glance over our shoulder
we suddenly
see each other trying,
trying to find our
words.
© Scott F Savage 2019
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