6.13.2012

4/3/12

4/3/12
Holes, stabbed through the wall an if by a pencil through a navy paper
Light brighter on the other side,
Gushing into my world
Spots, glimpses of her face, a pointillism of beauty
She, blinded by the darkness
Cannot see my yearning face
I, though desperate, speak not a word. 
I know she is mine, though I am never to hold her again. 
It is with her love I go on. 

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