Friday, October 26

Solace is the arms of a kind-eyed man
whose fabric faintly carries coffee & cigarettes
The hard-worked hands framing my face and shoulder blades are worn from the years
But the grin and words are ever warm
Hearts have never beat so weightlessly
the anatomy of two souls have never mirrored the rings of one tree so closely
If fate should have it that our paths always run through the same groves, I would never sing another woe
if I could rest each night, secured lovingly in these arms, and rise each morning to the same passionate kisses as I have today; I shall hold the sum of all riches
And continue, each day, striving to requite the bliss I feel with a fervor I never knew I could own.

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