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Yellow Roses
This is the beginning.
This is the sad goodbye,
the “I’ll see you in a month,
don’t miss me too much.”
The crying
into the tee shirt
that smells like his sheets,
reminding you of the time you had
and the time between
the past and the future.
Holding seeds for yellow roses,
wondering if they will grow
in the vast space between us.
This is the middle.
This is the aching loneliness,
the “only a few weeks
until I can hold you in my strong arms.”
The writing letters and
sending cookies,
to feed each heart
in the time between
the past and the future.
The staring at the yellow roses,
watching them grow buds,
then bloom,
holding the rain in their petals.
This is the end.
This is the exhilarating reunion,
the “I missed you,
and your kisses.”
The making love
to make up for time lost,
caressing and wishing for
more time.
More kisses.
Less space.
The yellow petals
fall,
the wait is over.
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