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Tidying the crumpled mass of white,
Disarray attesting frenzied heat,
Morning mood more somber than last night,
Alone after another fast retreat.

Our crucial choice invoked by meager time,
Synergic dancing tongues or soulful eyes,
Submitting to the pull of that most prime,
Followed by uncomfortable goodbyes.

Patiently, I hope you’ll meet my stare,
Answering compassion hanging there,
I’ll settle just to hold your hand,
until you can.

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