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Sometimes
It was one of those times
When everything seemed
In place,
As perfect as picture perfect
Could be,
The only problem was
You couldn’t touch it,
You couldn’t hold it,
You could only
Experience it
By being part of it
With no one else
Ever knowing,
Never telling,
Never showing,
Like possessing
A rare stolen masterpiece,
Love does that to you
Sometimes,
Rarely, but
Sometimes.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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