Dark Love
The secret I retain no more, in the shelves of my soul,
The tales and scales of our moments,
The darkest passion, with no comparison,
The craziest glamour, sired illicitly,
The brawniest mystical portion,
I never drunk from any pot but yours,
Whether they were a passing wind or infatuation,
I care not, for this is my proclivity,
This distance and silence, running deep and scary,
Hopelessly gripping to it, to cleanse dark crimes,
I still miss you in that silence and distance,
You are still here, beside me,
I miss you Ms. Faustin.
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