And ever has it been that love knows not it's own depth until the hour of separation
~Kahlil Gibran~
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Tempest in our Hearts
Winter wind wailing for unrequited love.
Piercing through cloudless pale blue. Searching searching ...
For you, for me, for us, for ever ...
For a moment then
Fingerprint of Time
Echo of a moment
Eternity
In my soul
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