You Are the Voice
He's calling for me,
whispering in my ear.
He pushes strands of hair off my face
and lets them fly out behind me.
He wraps his arms around me
in a tight embrace.
He picks up leaves of different colors
and puts them in my palm as a gift.
He goes with me on walks
and sneaks through my window at night.
He hugs me tight
and kisses me on the cheek.
He's there for me,
always.
He knows I can't be with him.
He knows it's not possible.
He's too cold and empty for me.
He's the air when it sings.
He's the breeze on a hot day.
He's the voice,
the call,
the wind.
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