Maybe it's the way you hand me those puzzle pieces of yourself. Maybe it's the way they sometimes seem to have extras left over when my mind is already made up of pieces of my own without yours. Maybe it's fear. Something you don't understand. Maybe it's just excuses. What I do know is that solitude is a huge piece. A place where the pieces of my mind come together in the quiet of the night. The image it always makes is that of you and I. Full lives, passionate, lovingly well rounded and worn to a soft hue of feathery dog eared edges. Allow me this time to piece it together just once more... before that puzzle jumps off my brain pan and into your arms for life.
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