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  • The little girl at the next table played peek-a-boo.
    I smiled
    she hid.
    I looked away,
    she came back.
    Such an easy game to play.
    Like the sun flitting behind the clouds,
    her smile

    I like to think I drive you wild,
    sometimes I know I drive you crazy.
    I like to think my observations witty, deep and penetrating,
    sometimes I know you’ve heard them all before.
    I like to think I am endearing
    with all the little things I do.

    It is so easy to go along this way,
    assuming as the saying goes.

    But then, one day,
    the cracks appear.

    Where do feelings go
    when they slip away?

    Did you miss me when I was right beside you?
    Did you call?

    I only know the emptiness,
    hollow like a shell,
    when you said the warmth was gone.

    And, where the sun?
    Where the fire?
    Where to return,
    like hide and seek,
    like peek-a-boo,
    and find us again?
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