Inside there’s faint whispering,
Of something lying dormant,
Something small that’s flickering,
Ever so slowly forming.
What it is I dare-not-say,
But it cannot go ignored,
Or else it might fade-away,
And never to be explored.
Perhaps thinking wistfully,
Impossible to define,
Perchance we just kissed-fully,
It needn’t be locked inside.
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