A piece of a poem
curved inward and hit
to the left of my heart,
now I'm sick of it.
An almost-glance,
almost grasp, almost
kiss. Sometimes
the worst hits
are dealt by near-miss.
And yet we seek on,
reach out, try to catch -
until every lesson that taught
we were wrong to try
has gone past
unlearned, unshared.
Unheeded in every
moment we dared.
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