Pseudopsychosis.

Sweet soul, I can see you, smile
As we hike in rugged beauty
Pausing to touch fingertips
I step away as you call me back
as my response to regard you
Huff and that smile
For our souls would touch
the rushing waters to take a breath
When the rush has faded love and hands
cafes and laughter, stories peace and gaze
Suffered required functions
Dry wind blows as two study the world
and calm quiet near each other’s
peace of presence
I reach once again
to touch your hair and familiar.

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