Sunday, August 21, 2022

Unspoken. (Lasting.)

The taste of the lemongrass
A scent so familiar
Yet when hidden
Breaks a subtle
Nostalgia

Too close to comfort?
Or too much admired?
Too over-tinkered?
Or too much abused?
Quite like a secret
Have we been refused?

Alas, this to settle
To each their own

Life far too brittle
To journey alone
So you get to choose
Your secret's home

A warm bonfire
Awaits us still
A friendship with trust
Until we're stale
Even if we shall
Not be each other's best
Assured in our hearts
Is that this friendship will last.

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