at first I lie awake each night
patterns of street lamps dancing across my room
surly he will come
climbing so softly into my cold little bed
whispering sorrows in his ear
my tears wetting his sweet brown eyes
those eyes, his eyes I have missed so much
once closed forever,now open to mine
then lips meeting lips
I am born anew
Your poem is filled with a longing I'm sure we have all felt.
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