Color

I miss

The perfection, that is you

Within my mind.

I reach

Out to hold on,

Soft and clinging,

But I’m unable to touch.

I love

How strong you’ve become,

And I miss you.

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21 thoughts on “Color

  1. Why do we envision things as perfect when we know doggone well that nothing on earth is?!? And why do we love the strength we see in others but miss their need of us now? So many questions, Audrey; so few answers. Beautifully penned! (or rather, keyed, ha!)

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