It hangs
In the balance between
You and I
The empty air of silence
All those words left unsaid,
about the elephant,
and whose room he’s in, and why?
Tiny pockets crammed with conviction
Suit jackets lined with lies.
Yet still, we tiptoe
Between discarded clothes and comments
Barbed by hatred, hidden by love.
Such fickle creatures
We live by the moonlight of tenacity.
Loved this one, Ginni – you do that in-between space between love, hate and passion so very well…
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Aww thank you..I think hehe 😉
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It was intended to be a compliment:))
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*grins
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