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August, 2003 I want to know who you are. I want you to know who I am. Two worlds between those lines, where do they meet? Why am I so persistent in loving you, you of all people, you who don't care, who live a life I have no space in? Or at least you are very good at pretending you don't care. Why? Because you are afraid of emotions, afraid of change, because my beauty is beyond the surface, because it takes time and energy to touch and be touched beyond the routine of everyday life, because this love is a poem and we are the words, only our voices can bring it to life. It is being written as long as we live. Our breathing changes it from moment to moment. How can I stop loving you? I see your face with eyes open or closed. Will it ever go? Will you ever reach out and take my hand, will you kiss me, make love to me or will it be like this forever, am I locked in this fantasy until I die?
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