a whisper an echo of your words spoken,
they roam the halls of my memory
that is the only thing that I can lay claim to,
I cannot feel your touch nor the taste of your lips
feel your heated breath or warmth of your flesh,
I have only dreamed you to me,
no touch can I lay claim to
yet I tremble with the need at the sound of your voice
your words roam the halls again
lifting the shuffled heel and adding spring to the step
frozen moments in time, created and captured in those hallowed halls
the ghost of wishes and dreams gone past, replaced by the present
revived again with renewed vigor, this time much stronger
distance but a word that strengthens patience
what we will share, the future ours to shape
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