Of less than a moment
Where only
The mysterious feeling is felt
I call it mysterious yet feel sure
That it is fuelled by longing
Where one word is way less
Yet way more than a sentence
I don’t believe that the couple
Who sat by the window
Spoke a single word
As they drank their coffee
No doubt caught up
In their very own insecurities
Where the deep, penetrating silence
Is happy to scurrilously linger
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