The wind whispered sweet things,
finding the ears of an empty heart.
The inaudible became pronounced,
a directive to the willingness to
begin the journey again, or at least
a new leg of it. He had become
comfortable in his own company again.
He was assured by his thoughts
that the newness of anything
slightly resembling those feelings,
would find a vacancy within.
A smile permeated his granite
edifice, a sign that he was softening.
The gentle wafting of wind driven
words were music once more,
a rendition of that old tune.
He could swoon at any moment.
But he did not. He needed to feel
the honeyed indignation that
love offered. But he wanted to
get to know the man inside his skin;
the man she was able to mold
from that haggard heap of humanity
and into the strong and tender soul
she required him to be for her.
She felt he might like the guy too,
if he only gave himself the chance.
The road to self-discovery sans map.

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