Reflection
The moonlight reflecting the red in
your hair
Your jacket pulled tight, a slight chill
in the air
Few words are spoken, a wide
distance apart
Looking to the stars, the ground,
somewhere to start
Our hands touch softly, gently, our
fingers entwined
I whisper, my life, my love, my
one true friend
Please tell me not that this is
our end
Copyright © Christian Collins | Year Posted 2007
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