Poem to what might have been.

In different circumstances,
a different place; a different time.

We are who, what, and where we are.
Shadows of memory of desire
Dance in the still of night
Tickle questions of what if; if only.

Know that I love you, here and now,
The best way I can, as sister.

I found this scribbled on a scrap of
paper while cleaning off my desk.
Not sure when I wrote it, or to whom.
But there are a few who might fit.


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