You, me and Ralf Waldo Emerson

Dawn in Xinxiang,
so many moons have
come and gone.
Far away the sea sounds,
and sings to me.
Despite the distance,
I see your face –
how real it seems.
And as the charming
clouds gather,
a flash of lightning.
The birds flee in anguish,
and turn loose the sky.
And I am swallowed,
by the colour of your eyes
and the softness of your lips.
Believing you to be mine.

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