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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Romance/Love · #1027310
When souls come together, clashing, yet separate in the end again, quiet.
As children they met,
Each determined to pass the other by,
Without consciously knowing so,
Hand held firmly by parents,
Walking alongside, wondering
About the trees, the flowersohabutterfly!
Strangers.

Years of passing, and they
Finally realise that such-and-such,
So-and-so lives near them,
'Round the corner.
Occasionally their mothers arrange for tea,
While they sit in sullen silence, mere
Acquaintances.

In the study hall they circle
Each other, eyes flashing, tempers
Flaring. She argues that all
Boys are morons; he retorts,
"Fairer sex, my foot!"
Mutual icy glares; well-matched, they are,
Opponents.

Time passes, and they get used
To the taunts, swift retorts
Heart-breaking to an outsider,
But still they secretly smile.
An unexpected, raidant one from
Him, and she pauses in mid-sentence. They laugh,
Friends.

The dance of withdrawal,
Advancement, proceeds to something
Substantially more. The spark
Is channelled to other avenues; whispered
Confessions, late at night; giggles
Fading away, as they found each other,
Lovers.

Yet the flame does not
Last as they thought it would;
"I have a headache, honey."
Preoccupied in separate lives.
"Not tonight, darling."
Separate entities, touching only when necessary.
Strangers

Once again.
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