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Saturday, March 24, 2018

Turn in the Night to Hold Your Hand

I will this thought into reality:
The ecstasy of your smile close upon my own.
A dream, first folded by a blush, raises me off the floor.
In the night, a brow is illuminated from the shadow,
And like a wild huntress, there is strength enough for the unknown.
You appear far and near.
I can almost feel you press my shoulder
And turn your hand into mine.

In this reverie, your touch is seraphic.
There is fulfillment in it, and yet, we are awake and apart.
What substance can negotiate as mellifluously with the heart as your eyes do mine?
You are the first thought to nudge me in the morning 
And the last face to shine upon me as I fall asleep.

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