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Half Full

by Lindsea L. Hutchinson

The glass of gin was half full.
My eyes,
Half empty.

We met halfway.

Half of me says turn around.
The other half,
Sit and stay.

But half of you burns the question why on my fingers.
And half past midnight never came so quickly.

So keep your silence golden, and maybe half of me
And half of you
Can fill up the rest of our lives with complete complications.

Only ever telling
Half the truth.

Copyright © 2012 by Lindsea Hutchinson

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