Your Voice

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Your Voice
Love poem

Still in the still of the rain
I sense you near.

The room is full
of the scent of emptiness
yet even the silence
turns my head.

The walls expand
to enclose the world.

With gaudy flags
on a colored map
I mark your progress
through my memory,
upwards and inwards
your progress to my heart.

A moth glistens in the circle
cast by my reading light.

Your stealthy footsteps
sound in the corridor.

A voice, your voice,
drifts through the night

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