We talk like always—deep and wide,?
Of everything, and what's inside.?
You know my soul, I know your face,
?Every silence, every grace.
But there’s a line we never cross,
?Drawn soft in sand, but heavy with loss.?
A whisper hung between each laugh,?
A truth we only feel by half.
I see it in the way you pause,?
In hands that shake without...
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