A dull bit of foam
Swept on emotion's tide
recalls a kiss he's not received
one where souls collide.
Twenty-four hours coser
to the therapy couch, he
remembers an embrace yet to be felt,
where closeness sets him free.
One hand away from losing it all
the longing for something not understood
begs questions of what is real . . .
Can something be missed
were it never known?
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