Why can humor be so easy sometimes? And love develop like a blossom?
Sometimes I can talk for hours with someone, the conversation flowing so easily. But then it seems to get jammed up in the repetition, the blossom fades.
Try as I might I cannot resurrect it, it's tragic
Like a knife that's lost it's edge
A penny that's lost it's shine
A broken link
And I don't know how to change this pattern
It's played out too many times.
The dullness is a mirage
There are embers, deep and wild
Untamed
Waiting to be stoked into life.
The fire burns and blossoms
Into steady passion
It is so sweet
Only the truest of lovers, will ever know the taste of it.
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