Gentle Hugs Tender Whispers

Gentle hugs and tender whispers, make the night pass slowly;
heartfelt hugs and touching warmly help the days pass quickly.

Upon next greeting, lips gently brush aside sorrow and longing do,
until the enjoyment of loves faltering steps turn into passionate kisses.

But, woe upon woe when torn apart by time, love is never measured
by distance but by the moments lost or stolen between two.

Lives seemingly guided and linked as though by chains fettered
joyfully, and in each others eyes the pleasures of time unravel.
Measured until like cloth torn into shreds, lie, entangling each others feet.

Chained as both, to other places and facing separate responsibilities,
when the moment was theirs to capture even for but a brief space of time;
they cling one to another as though the world stopped, as though
a word or gesture or hesitation might stop their pleasure in sharing each others company.

Lips find one against the other, anxious, to panic, to pleasure, to joy finding rapture; then was their time counted as worthy.

He agonized…for that which was not his to hold or caress…while,
she in her grief, but sated for the time and joyful, at the very least could hold that which was hers for the brief moment.

Both chained and separated by time and events.

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