Rolling in a void.
Happy. Floating.
Reflecting gently
As if watching fish in a pond.
Of you I am dreadfully fond.
Our time hasn’t been long.
It won’t be any longer.
We were friends and lovers
We were everything to me.
In order to find myself
I need to let you go.
In order to find myself
I need to let you know
That if we can not be friends,
We are no more.
Brigid Faye, Reader 
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