She is there.
There and close and smiling at me.
She is golden.
Golden and bright and lovely.
She is sharing.
Sharing and understanding and empathy.
She is soft.
Soft and warm and fitting perfectly into me.
She is time.
Time and again and every morning and every night.
She is secrets.
Secrets and doubts and hidden places.
She is pulling away.
Pulling away and coming back and pulling away again.
She is gone.
Gone and I miss her and she never was mine.
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