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Vacuous

A final meal 
of Yorkshire Pudding and  beef.
Then, as a thief I'd steal the night.
We circled with the stealth of strays,
listening to Beethoven.
But I'd a crescendo of heart 
as you placed your hand on mine.
Such gentleness was imbalanced,
since I've known the sharpness 
of your tongue.
I maintained composure, 
but such cynosure 
and I'm Promethean, unbound.
'Once more!  For old time's sake.'
And I break all the promises I'd made.
As you slept, I closed the door.
And the feeling 
escaping the room,
created a vacuum 
I could never replace.

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