November 2011
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Morning Light
Early morning light makes its way through the window.
I see you there asleep and reach to touch your cheek.
Would this be the morning you respond?
I caress your hair, hoping, wishing, desiring much more.
And yet, no response.
How many times, how many days pass, this is the same.
How many morning I yearn for more,
Hoping your hand touches my cheek and we embrace.
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