Some things are Clear
Hours and days and weeks pass by I don't hear your voice or live on your sigh, then out of the blue you reappear to whisper things to my minds ear not always clearly just a wee hint, of perhaps what you mean and I get just a glint a speckle a morsel, a offering, a crumb, then we hang up, and I feel so dumb.
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Written by: Cara Marie Filipeli