Empty words won't move inside
The way love does.
To learn this disparity
Is to throw oneself open.
Then the true account begins...
Love took as an opened book
That was set upon a table - enabled
To be articulated and conceived.
As hints of imprints
Seemed attached to your inner being.
Once sinking, we are recalled to surface.
In confessing, "I don't know why?"
There awaits a defining reply.
In stepping toward Love's Door.
We are finally found inside...
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