a still, brave, singular perspective
of you - your gift, your sin,
your peace, your havoc,
a faint cry of despair
hanging to the threads
that weave our memories
together, of the laughters
that humbly remind us
of what we could be,
your arms is exactly where
my anguished depth
exists, awaiting to be maimed,
owned and conquered,
awaiting to ascend.
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