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Between Poetic Lines
It was a wayward meeting
Half-assed and incomplete,
The kind that leaves you
Wistfully wondering, what
In the hell was that all
About, and yet, it
Was wonderful in a way,
Why does beauty play
Its harp unexpectedly,
Making the moon and sun
Sneak away your attention
To details, her laughter
To hide the essence
Of
the matter,
Her smiling eyes to speak
Like the unseen words
Between
poetic lines.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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