Apart

Sometimes I think you have too many loves, and too many lovers to name.

Sometimes I think you have too many words, and too many demons to tame.

But sometimes I think that you are quite right,

And you and I fit the frame.

Sometimes I feel like you might hold my heart,

And cradle it like your own just the same.

And then I remember how far away you are,

And how magic doesn’t seem to remember,

On long winter nights, when the fire bites the frost,

I’ll dream of you in this dreary November.

 

M.

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