Is the contradiction of opening the heart
What once seemed like "our"
Soon was apart
Because he was her stone
And she, the kite
Gliding by the ripples of the wind, it was lone
and frozen up above, she turned white
The torture of decision
It bit her to shreds
The sweet and sour collision
became less blue, and more reds
Tired, she grew
Unable to forget
The divine feeling when they flew
But soon the patience became a threat
Perhaps the death of her
Was just not knowing
Who he was, who they were
Why they were slowing
The words screamed at her face,
For she already knew
That denial was a race
And it was beating her too
So she opened her fingers,
And let go of the strings made of feather
Still--the scent and the trace of the kite lingers
She faults the space, the journey, even the tether
And resent is worse
So she dropped to sea level
And was left without a verse
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