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Untitled (not for long)

November 16, 2025 by Andres Garcia

A subtle whisper, it titters at the edge of sound, its there

Barely, minuscule in its presence

Ever-present, like air

A touch, so fleeting, never enough

A question,

should I dare?

Lay it out, if you must

That the soul conspired a rampant affair

I said with an earnest nod

With a flame so bright it burnt my heart

And thats all right.

November 16, 2025 /Andres Garcia
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