“What is it about?”

Has been painfully long,

Measuring now in days not minutes,

We had it all figured out,

Hands entwined,

Because there was no better touch.

Our minds leaning into each other

Certain what we had was not imagined

As real as the breeze on my face

As close as the coffee mug near my lips

As often as the rains in monsoon.

We were real then as we are now,

My forever love 

Writing my story 

With pride and wisdom,

Dipped in passion.

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