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the coin lost it's shine





a brush , a whisper , a faint memory of
your smell
a long ago echo , your voice hidden in a well
familiar scents of this earthen spring , I find,
greatly reflect a lost love of mine


I stand at our well , entranced in memories
again
the day of our "chance" meeting
strangers in a mutual place
simple guestures of faith we'd shared
tossing dreams that , until then , a face
withheld
my tossed coin carried magic that day
you had come for the same reason , your
dream to claim


the sounds of your words muddled with mine
images of your movements hazed over in time
fleeting reflections of a lost love of mine


a brush , a whisper , a faint memory of
your touch
a long ago feeling , fuel for my living hell
familiar scents of this earthen spring , I find,
greatly reflect a lost love of mine


darkness came quickly my love
I must turn from our well
I'll come again tomorrow,
to be enchanted by your spell
for a small moment of time
where words needn't be used
for a small moment in time
that reality comsumes


I no longer toss dreams into our well,
in hope of what I'll find
the day I buried you,
the coin lost it's shine





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