Afterall the time
miles of silence
my senses filled
with the smells of sorrow
always pinching
whichever way I turn
IF you reached for me
I would not pull away ...
but
put the my hand to the back of your hair
and bow my head
and pray
that the sour shell dissolve
waiving the halt
between our hearts
craving hope
craving strength
ending a famine of wisdom
to momentarily hold you
right back
I would need nothing more.
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