Low
Seasons in passing laid me low,
With less to see, even less to know
Of what has gone before.
We basked in the warmth of touching breasts,
Held close our hands on beating chests
And felt the passion soar.
In confessional love, becomes my friend,
Sweet physical state, I comprehend
The beauty spots redeemed.
Yet a cloud cast down a shadowed hand
To snatch away the contraband
Of all that I had dreamed.
Twin flesh and minds we had explored,
And knew and kissed and just adored,
Abruptly peeled apart.
Still needing this and hanging on
And loving that which may be gone,
Best friend who stole my heart.
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