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I’m certain
there’s a place
you can’t reach
inside my soul –
another thousand miles
beyond your touch
a story not yet traded
for somewhere we begin –
destiny or fate
not soon enough

I drew a map one Friday
and left before the sun
could gather up your dreams
to make them mine
before my heart remembered
all the ways
you fit me well
how much of me
is traces left behind

for every truth
some mystery –
to ease the days between
moments yet to ponder
why we came
for every start
where evermore has written
us more time –
seasons pass
stones are rolled away

. . .