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Snatches

A poem on the frustrations of talking about difficult things over the internet

Mist swirls.
Every sense strains
to catch a glimpse.

A movement.
Spinning towards,
Find you smiling

All is well.
Then probe too deep.
Into the mist vanish.

Waiting anxiously.
No point in searching;
The mist conceals.

No way to reach you.
Then out of this mist,
Returning once more.

My heart swells,
Concerns war.
Should I ask or avoid?

Tendrils of mist
Obscure your eyes.
Can't read you.

One touch
Of a sensitive spot
And you are gone again.

Catching snatches,
Through the mist.
Surrendered to it.

Hate the mist.
So easy to vanish,
To run and hide.

A selfish hate.
I know.
And yet.
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