how your hands are embers
your eyes are slow wine
i feel fully controlling of you
and yet, somehow fully controlled by you
a long discussion…painful and emotional.
the frustrations of life bearing down on our minds
and souls, unsure of our place
and at this time the physical reassurance of
each other presence seems trite…insignificant
in the face of the oppressing odds
but when you speak kindly to me
and press my hand to yours
when you squeeze my side and
bury your face in my chest
i feel as:
-a child swinging by the hands of his mother and father
-a thief on a moonless night
-a book lost in the deepest shelf
-a bird perched on a limb
-an umbrella in the rain
i feel…
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