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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #1263210
reflections of the past.
I once dared touch passion
as it spoke its name to me.
Two souls who met by chance
neither meant to be there.

The dance grew in tempo;
distance shrunk by flame.
Time apart, hurried and shared
by standing in its rain.

Then life threw it a twist.
Fear can kill passion you know.
It drowned over the Atlantic
(nothing floats forever).

Now I sit in the dark
picturing it in my mind.
Wondering just how many times
passion walks through the door.
© Copyright 2007 Patrick Wescott (patrickwescott at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1263210-Once-2007