The Unbearable Call
She calls and calls to me she cries
I hear her I hear her and for that am daring
For a friend and an enemy she has become
That soft kiss on my forehead
The phantom curse of our passion
How is it I and her have these conversations
The late night chats of our sorrows
The innocent depths of our dawn
By midday we play tug of war
I trying to chase her away
And she holding tight to me
We love and we cry
Sobbing on each other's shoulders
The ink undying
Fresh with each stroke
The poetry in me
The poem and the poet
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