Friday, March 1st, 2013...11:35 am

seth howard | replay

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All over again
I see you walking through the door
My heartbeat slows
Each time I see your face
And is it strange?
That you shouldn’t make
My heart race

But does it make a difference?
I choose not
To get hung up on the small things
Like a scene from a movie
I watch as you enter
The room

And time almost stands still
As I hold my breath
Knowing that each moment
Could be the last
Could be the last

If slow motion could exist
In the world, this would be it
Your stride, graceful
As a wild doe that doesn’t
Know it is being watched
Until it is too late

Or perhaps the prey
Was me, in this game that we play
And it was I who watched
Only to be taken in
By the way
Your hips sway

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