Timing

To write of you
In song or rhyme feels
Like plagiarizing a beautiful tune

Like speaking of how the ocean’s shore
With each kiss of waves begs an encore
When your sands rest beyond locked gates
The estate already houses two paired mates

But it is her song to sing, not I
And if only we had met an ocean soon
Perhaps it would not consume my every sigh
How I am left in my own typhoon

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