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A Love Poem

My arthritic fingers
lift the faded photograph
from my worn-out wallet
and I stare into
her brown eyes.
I imagine holding her
again in my arms
and feeling her breasts
pushing against my chest.
We walked hand in hand
through a field of dandelions,
basking in the sunshine
rising from our hearts.
We were lovers of the soul,
dancers on the wings
of dreams, holding fast
to the passions of our youth.
And yet I let her go—



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