Distance
I am a puzzle
Still missing it’s pieces
She is a book,
Pages not yet filled
An unlikely pairing, though we may be
I fill her with words and she puts me back together
But her pages are becoming scarce
And I am running out of ink
I fear this may be over
But too scared to believe that it’s true
So I live in anguished innocence
And try not to see the reality before me
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