The days
we spent together
in the almost-autumn weather
were kind and real.
And in my mind I feel
the softness of your fingers
as they linger
in my hand or on my face
as I would place
my lips to yours -
and in the night
when I would hold you tight
and you in turn hold me
( I would thrive in such sweet captivity! ).
But those times are gone
and our love is a silent so ng
that only sings
like the silent, whisper wings
of the butterfly.
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