there is a band wrapped around that finger
made of silver
it holds a life in waiting
there is a band wrapped around this finger
the color of pale skin
shaded from sunlight
longing passed between two
are like points in space
forsaken by time
two places in time
two places in space
seeking common ground
yet a band is a band
and while it can be a circle
circles rarely have lines that coincide
so what is to come and what has been
is often incomplete volition
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