Through The Hidden Window

If I could only reach across the breath of air that hangs between us like the deafening roar of silence,
Then you would know the deep chasm that swallows my resolve when your words crash upon me like so many small detonations.
Can there be any resistance to a force that stabs directly into the center of who we are
And leaves us breathless on a deserted strand surrounded only by the memory of thoughts and images and exchanged looks?
Press hard against me if you dare to travel through the enveloping mist that covers our motivations,
And journey with me to where pretense runs dry in the riverbed and the wind blows only truth.

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