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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