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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Romance/Love >> ID #777962 |
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In a black velvet box,
the fragile glass heart sleeps; its face shrouded in darkness. You are there, somehow, guided by fate. Treasure hunter seeking a prize, gently opening the lid... By caressing the cold surface, it awakens to your touch. You hold it close, warming it with love. --------------- This poem won an honorable mention in July 2004
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