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  • Category: Community Poetry
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It's not love,
at least not yet. 
It has neither the depth
nor patina of true love,
but its promise. 

Smitten: it is all giddiness,
nerves at edge
and uncertain

It is not the spark 
that ignites the fire,
but the instinct 
to strike the match.

Comments (3)

  1. Vangoman

So very right, and so very niceley stated. I can see the patina in the reflection of this fire, and the smell from the leftover instinct. Nicely done

  1. ugwerks

Thanks. Haven't been writing so much lately, but managed to put this together. Appreciate your comments and remembrance.

  1. Zany Lynn

I love the final stanza.

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