Absent miles

Of things that are more appreciated in absence.

I saw you stood there, without flowers, bathed in joy.

I hope not see you today, nor tomorrow, nor any day after.

As I know, when I start to dream of you, That’s when I love you the most.

And I cannot dream a living, breathing, doll.

I dream of what came and what’s unsure.

 

And then I put that in a box.

Somewhere I can no longer see or touch or smile at.

And then I long for it, admire it for it ceased to come to my door.

And then make countless steps, just to be with her in a warm sunny noon.

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