when I reach out with my fingertips

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when I reach out with my fingertips

they brush against a glass like surface

a smooth barrier

cold to the touch

I shiver

even the warmth of the sun cannot douse the cold

for I expected a different type of warmth

one that would extend beyond the simple touch

travel to my soul

 

it’s not a new sensation

rather a reoccurring one

I persist

hoping that one day the warmth from my soul

will be enough to break through

that our warmth will be joined

melding into a force so strong

it can not be undone

 

I often wonder

why I do this

why not let go of this hope

the barrier has not broken down at all

 

how do we decide to let go of our heart’s desire

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