London Poem: Day 97

22 November

The music carries on,
Lofting lonely up to the
Ceiling, and falling back softly
Like a spring rain.
The notes, bending and pulling,
Moves us, in circles, together.
Such romance budding as we move
Without concern to the world,
As it spins and leaves us behind.
Come closer, and hold me tight.
Let this us do what we can
To ensure this never ends.
Let this be where our life begins
Together, and where it ends.
We are in flux,
But let that movement end
So that we may see where
It begins and where it ends
In one soft glance.

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In flux

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