3-4-5
Often I sit and think of you.
Alone in would-be silence,
My heart races as I see your face.
Your touch,
Upon my skin I shall never feel.
Our love,
Our lips will never seal.
I shall never know you,
But I will dream;
Of untaken chances,
Suttle stares -Hidden glances,
Of you always.
Alone in would-be silence,
My heart races as I see your face.
Your touch,
Upon my skin I shall never feel.
Our love,
Our lips will never seal.
I shall never know you,
But I will dream;
Of untaken chances,
Suttle stares -Hidden glances,
Of you always.
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