There is a time of evening
when the prairie is about to say something.
It never says it.
Or perhaps it is constantly saying it
but we never hear it,
or we hear it,
but it is as inexpressible
as a piece of music.
- Jorge Luis Borges
This feeling happens to me when I least expect it. And I am filled with love and longing for you. I grasp for a fleeting glimpse of you and if I am lucky I do hear the music. It always comes with violins and cellos. Sweet and clear, with all the longing of a heart so young and strong. The beauty and strength of you will never leave me. I look forward to the next time I am under your spell.
these two poems were born for each other.
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