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Gaze of the Pacific
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Any last remnants of
childhood
ended when I lost you.
The feeling of my
head resting on
your soft, warm legs.
The voice,
both wise
and inviting,
with its dulcet tones,
instructing me
in matters of
the world,
both trivial
and towering.

I know
I am no longer
young,
because I have lost
the first face,
the first voice
I called mine.

The face I knew
instinctively
belonged to me,
knowing
that I belonged
to it too.

My favourite
one in the
world.

The colour of
your eyes is
hard to describe.
Your unique
combination of
atoms
created an
unforgettably
beautiful face.

I see you now,
in the soothing
lull of the
Pacific before me.

In the mossy grey
waves with hints
of hazel and blue,
that remind me
of
the first
gaze I ever beheld.

You used to call
me ‘Darling.’
Like a parrot, I
echoed your
words,
a mirror to my soul,
encapsulating
exactly
whom I aspired to be –
a woman
who commanded a room,
with her gentle love –
who made friends
in every corner of the
globe,
with her roaring laugh
and inviting eyes.
The woman
who taught me
everything.
I called you
“Darling” too.

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