the creases on your hand
sheltered by the night sky,
warm like an ember, full
of intent like the rain,
your face sheltered by
the peaceful hymn of
the sunrise, by the undaunted
shadow of a dream
the surface of a
sad, waxed, silent moon,
wandering along a knife's
edge - how do we overcome
the ramblings and release,
quick, sudden, in between.
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