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SI TU N'ETAIS PAS LA
She was beautiful
I was a painting composed of all colors but one
She was that color
Her glow was the sunshine that illuminates the missing shade to an endless spectrum
Simple in her complexity
With the stroke of a brush
Directed by none but the wind
In absolute harmony
Our fingertips met
In that perfect moment
I felt closer to the moon
What was once so far away:
Unattainable to even the imagination
Is now at the pinpoint of my fingertip.
The quiet murmur of the city
An orchestra of beating hearts
A symphony of the stars
All in sync
For that perfect moment
The melody of poetry and the depth of all emotion all made sense
I was a painting
An imperfect masterpiece that was missing something
Something beautiful
She was beautiful.
Elle était belle
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