'when I say that I miss you I mean something more,
i mean I’ve been biding my time till you kiss me again.
i keep poems like secrets
and then tell them when I’m tried of hiding who I am.
i am missing you most
in the silence between songs on my favorite record.
sometimes it takes so long for the music to start… is there a shoreline where the seaweed holds the rocks
so tight they soften into sand?
is it too late to say that’s how my heart feels in your hands?
like you could sift it through an hour glass and pass it off as time
never stood still, and neither did I…
but I will
if you let me.'
Andrea Gibson
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