He

It’s the way she tells the story.. the way her eyes record it.. the way her mind forms the words

It’s just like any other story.. it’s like something you’ve heard before.. something you want to know more

But her story is unlike any other story.. her story has not been told before.. could not find it’s voice before

She is like no other story.. her eyes that I want to see.. her mind that I want to pick.. her heart that I want to feel

I want to make her a part of my story.. my story that can also be her story.. our story that we can tell

She

He wants to make me a part of his story.. I thought I had my own story.. My short story to tell

He wants to call me a different name.. a name sweet to my ears.. A name I cannot seem to forget

But how many have “wanted” me in their story.. Then refused to tell my story.. My oh so sweet short story

I almost forgot what it was to listen to a good story.. To have my heart dance to the innuendos and crescendos

So I’m done chasing the high.. done chasing the brief escalations of my spirit when I get a whiff of a false story.. done living only for the momentary.. for other selfish momentaries

I want the story of all stories.. want my story to be your story

I want to be a part of your story.. want us to tell our own story

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