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Rated: E · Poetry · Relationship · #1633418
Two people meet are they lovers, are they enemies? About the cautious steps towards love.
The Drifter. The Gypsy.

I was watching for archers
along the watchtowers, among the philanderers
You said you were a telegrapher
I looked for Wings, hidden under paramour armor


You offered to wire my lookout
lead me to the hideout. stop. rescue the sellout. stop
I said exile was a forfeit
But your hands were holding mine, with no time to frett


We met in the desert, we fell in the garden
The looks we passed they will not pardon
They say you'd plunder that proxy, you'd plunder my moxie
but you can't chain the drifter, you can't claim the gypsy
© Copyright 2010 Amber Maye (killian at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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