Window open
To the night,
Damp breeze
Through the curtains;
The look in your eyes
So shy and uncertain.
I miss your storms—
Your whisper,
The crackle of your touch;
Moments in the lightning
When I feel your hands clutch.
Absence
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...and this one sketched some images that I felt, instead of seeing.
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You are so intuitive, Arthur - yes, you grasp the music and not just the notes :)
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