I was waiting alone at the edge of my colorless canvas.
You were the artist I needed to meet.
I could see your mark against the screen.
A gorgeous array of personality left by your warmth.
Your fingers are in a flight of life, leaving prints all about.
Creating nothing but the inspiration in your eyes.
Before you left to dance upon the skyline of the beach.
Always at your side, grazing anyplace they might adventure.
You still have a chance to bring me flowers.
While your hands are alive to heal my scars.
You went away for a while, but I hope for your return.
For sometimes it is too long, and I do not recognize the constellation.
Your fingerprints have not been traveling the mysterious skies.
You never seem to be awake lately, even when the stars are away.
Always lost int that realm where you are drowning in a desert.
You are not awake enough to dance with the freedom of yourself.
For now, it seems that you have flightless fingerprints.
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