blending

it was a day, a memory,
a hoped-for thing that wasn’t sought,
i’d never known your secret want,
but i knew i really shouldn’t ought

the sky was gray and cold outside,
the moments hung, depending —
but inside, all was warm and wrong
when you and i

were blending

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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