'I rue the lost hours and days: a finite life, this one'
"Find us together: tiptoeing across the fanning pages of a calendar."
Regaining my youth only means losing you all over again.
So let us meet at the station, then, and what happens after we can decide again
So the masks are sloughed off, and my heart stretches a shining ladder, reaches
made its blades stand sentinel and straight, made the lock stick on the kissing gate
if I listen to the breeze I hear night
She leant back and let the blade of his shoulder frame the picture, for that’s how she would replay it in her head.
Because I’ll miss you became The I love you for friends
Fated to be caught perpetually behind the window, always waiting for that elusive tomorrow.
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