Between The Lines
We talk of skies,
Of sunsets,
Of weathered days and paper wings.
Of sunsets,
Of weathered days and paper wings.
You laugh, I smile, and the moment stays -
Then softly slips, and drifts away.
You lean in close, but never near.
Your words are warm, but never clear.
I walk beside you, not behind.
Yet still a step outside your mind.
I thought I saw a little spark.
A light that flickered in the dark.
But maybe I just dreamed too loud,
mistook your smile among the crowd.
Though I wish for something more,
I never ask, you never show.
We live in light that almost shines -
A love that hides between the lines.
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