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Literature Text
It was always cold this time of year.
But
his warmth was
contagious
Peaceful
Sitting down on a wooden bench
worn down to the grain.
He slipped his hand in mine, a perfect fit,
and shared his warmth with me.
Only.
Me
and then
Another breath lost to the wind.
Another heart beat singing my song.
softly
drawing my spirit closer
No snow flake could touch us now.
and
still
Peaceful
A hand pulls away
brushing a raindrop from my cheek.
a lost kiss from my lips.
Then it falls
Softly like....
"How long?"
I whisper to his warmth
"How long?"
The song stills, the chill replies.
I search for the warmth within
No warmth
No life
Peaceful
But
his warmth was
contagious
Peaceful
Sitting down on a wooden bench
worn down to the grain.
He slipped his hand in mine, a perfect fit,
and shared his warmth with me.
Only.
Me
and then
Another breath lost to the wind.
Another heart beat singing my song.
softly
drawing my spirit closer
No snow flake could touch us now.
and
still
Peaceful
A hand pulls away
brushing a raindrop from my cheek.
a lost kiss from my lips.
Then it falls
Softly like....
"How long?"
I whisper to his warmth
"How long?"
The song stills, the chill replies.
I search for the warmth within
No warmth
No life
Peaceful
I wrote this for a contest with the prompt
'Something sad'
I shouldn't write so late at night.
'Something sad'
I shouldn't write so late at night.
© 2012 - 2024 Josie-mouse
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