where one-by-one we fell in love,
where loving you was easy,
and we announced not to the world
of our feelings and our intentions
filed away in some deep dark mysterious tunnel
drawing upon them as needed;
our closeness can wrapped in soft colors,
telling our story in disguised sentiments,
and carefully we saved the paper
as one would save fine linens, using
them only during special times;
When we forgave, in turn,
we were forgiven and annointed
ourselves with sacrificial offerings
and protested strongly of our deliverence,
where one day, not too far away,
we would turn in our love for memories.
June 5, 1984
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