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Empty Whispers of Love (Le Voir N. Lewis - New Orleans, LA)

 


I called out to you last night, needing the warmth of your whisper.

Hot, fresh breath to my lobe telling me everything would be alright,

but you were not here when I called.  

You are no more than an afterthought. Just a dream.

 

I called out to you last night, hoping you would come to my aid. A true damsel in distress.

Hot, fresh breath nowhere near my lobe as I fiend for your words,

but you were missing in action from my presence.

You are no more than an afterthought.  Just a dream. 

 

 

I called out to you wishing to be near your firm embrace.

Hot, fresh breath hovering, close to my cool neck.

The cloud of lingering fog and frigid air left a mold of your silhouette.

You are no more than an afterthought.  Just a dream.

 

 

I called out to you amid the circling frost in my room.

Stiff and viscous is the cloud where you once stood.

Only a remnant of where you were last will be the lingering memory of you.

You are no more than an afterthought.  Just a dream.

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