Love & War, Prose, Uncategorized

He

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He has a name, an occupation, likes and dislikes. He is no longer faceless. I no longer wonder who or where he is. He is here.

But I have to wait. I cannot touch. I had a glimpse of how it could be if he allowed it. But I have to wait.

Our hands are stained – by each other and of our own doing. They have to be clean and empty to receive…

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I fear I’m forcing a square peg into a round hole, but a square and a circle never fit quite this well together. He gives me peace about it. This could run like a well oiled machine… Damnit I’m bargening! I need to stop bartering. You are King over the flood…

I dont know how long the wait is for, but I know where my eyes need to be fixed….

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