A gauche peace rests between them. The specter's glow
reflects off fallen tears, silver droplets twinkling
on blades in a stirring pasture as she refrains from
any words, though has so much to weep. She sits, lost,
livid, curled into herself in a self-indulgent manner
while the perpetrator is positioned parallel to her,
shoulders back and stationing his head
with a much yearned for, yet abhorrent buoyancy.
His eyes are locked on the dark, desolate mistress,
calm and unreadable, mystifying. She resists the urge
to steal a glance, seizing silence over conversation.
The pale specter floats far above the onlookers,
illuminating and immense, gracing its beauty to all
it reaches out to, touch wasted on Time's ugly hand.
Her opposition of not even the most undeviating glances
demands her eyes one much desired, protracted look.
Drawing no breath, she falls into suffocating depths.
Those mysterious eyes shift over her, leaving a
smoldering trail in its rise. The once pursed lips
form her name and the sound resonates in her ears.
Hopelessness washes over her, extinguishing her fire
as she slips into an inescapably familiar nightmare.
She realizes, she is hooked as the person leans close
to her face and captures her lips as he does her heart
all over again.

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