To hold a gaze, to take that moment with you. Not a glance, not a passing look, but that thrill when eyes seem to merge. Intimate, like a soul bared and captivation shared. I wonder what lies between the gaze, if thoughts are suspended there, masterpieces of unspoken words, unwritten pages.
Scribblings of Curiosity 
I’m not sure why that struck a chord but I keep reading it and find different meaning each time.
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Thanks for the comment, Wayne. That’s what I adore about words. How moods change them.
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