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“Becoming One”

Maybe this, maybe we were meant to meet

Leaves me wondering if I’m on her mind

As she’s on mine constantly.

I find myself reminiscing and thinking

Seeing and reliving moments

Recalling the details in all our conversations.

Love is, maybe, one who cherishes every occasion

And not of negligence.

Past Definitions of what love is to me has changed since

Through various instances.

I found meaning, a reason for living.

Through her I perceived loving someone

Is knowing all about them.

Just remembering.

Putting what makes all them

In your mind and in your heart

And never forgetting.

Love is “Becoming one”

With an individual.

This individual an inspiration

To me. I told her this already.

If she happens to read this or

Hear of this through the grapevine…

She’d know this poem was about her.

When I speak, I speak strongly.

This is the one thing you will find

About me if you haven’t found it through

These words I’m reading to you, already.

This I’m sure.

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Published inFriendLove

2 Comments

  1. Very nice, so hopefully she will read it or someone will tell her about your poem.

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