There is no where I could follow, where your words would have been but that they are not. I think, you are sparse in this white of space or dissolved in this black spill of ink. I think, I long for the sound of your thoughts, of how they are recreated in form, that I may move my skin over it and feel it seep into my pores, that I may sigh at the
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As I've said many many times over, I never tire reading you, Sharon. The longing and pain is felt from this end. Just stupendous writing.
My next goal in life is to attempt to write like you. I think I said that some four years ago. No luck yet. LOL
Santha
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There may be the longing, yes. But pain is.. I'm not certain. There is, however, only 'tender to touch', which is only me, of course. I realise it reaches across differently. Thank you always for reading.
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Hey, you know I went to your side of the world on November 1st (that time I sent you a message also) just to procure that dark chocolat from ecuador at the grocer. I like it. Now I'm also wanting to try the one with the orange? I'm not sure. I only know trinidad lemons, I suppose. Haha. The lady behind the counter said, the bittersweet dark one was better selling.
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