Mists of Goodbye
Gray clouds gathering, distant eyes shrouded;
inner vellum lids cannot disguise
the fugitive from love you are.
Your cherished, throbbing body near,
Far, far away your misplaced mind;
Hesitant words reach out to you,
entangling in a torturous maze
where two hearts stumble in the mists.
August 20, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
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