Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Market Street

I've seen your face in that passing car before,
it seems so familiar and inviting,
I wonder about your past, your present, our future.
I've slept and seen you in my dreams,
ever so lovely, beautiful, marvelous,
and yet you soon become distant brake lights,
into the edges of twilight's oblivion.
Love is quick, and passes with every moment.

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