Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Virginia

The air stings my face slightly.
The wind is biting.
The sun shines, but its warmth cannot keep up with us.
You stand off in the distance.
Wreathed in a glow that seems to emanate from deep inside you.
Blond locks whip around, in disarray and yet every movement, another
act of sheer brilliance.
I want to come close to you.
To whisper in your ear,
"This is who I was before I met you."

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