My kind of night

Weeping thoughts of things lovers do to fool you into being captured again.

Touch of a hand while stealing a kiss. Trying to make me remember regret at it’s finest.

I push them aside as I stare up at this half moon and put the ring back on the shelf.

We have nothing more than friendship at best. Standing the test of time and the space it takes to let your vices take over.

C L Cunningham

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