Almost Strangers

I would like to know her better,
but we can’t find the time
I spend years on these details,
yet the words still don’t rhyme
Nothing is sacred between us,
unless you consider what goes unknown
Misplacing what should be between us;
forever hanging up the phone
Patiently awaiting a gentle phrase,
but never admitting what we feel
Always refusing to see it;
pretending there's some other way to heal
We discuss the past like a pun,
when it was warm with hugs and love
We drift apart, and lose the other,
but she remains the one I dream of
And this delicate thread which holds us together
deserves to be made of gold
But I fear, without more courage,
we’ll soon be but memories; growing old

Poetry from Ink and Emotion by Shane Windham
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