The Sweetest Thing
The sweetest thing you ever said to me, Was in the hamlet of Geneva. The place your spirit started in the East, where I found mine renewed in the Midwest Four hours a man and woman proved they could love each other as friends, a miracle after the deepest of romantic loves. Your words are written like the graffiti of the prophets on the walls of my heart YOU don't need to buy me anything for me to think of YOU. Me not buying you a gift to be remembered, but the simple thing of the pleasure in your face when a man wants light and attention drawn to the shimmering lights of the necklace that reflects your inner light as well as the overhead lights of the shop of Travelers. You not sure why but hopeful at the end of the day, the man would be content not expecting to play. Only friends can be together for who they are now, not intimacy later.
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