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September 21, 2016

for L.M.

My dying days are done;
like rising rays of sun,
no longer will I be content
to lie down, slowly die, I’m meant
to serve you, bring you daywarmth in your night;
to keep you, be your comfort, hold you tight;
but too, be your deliverer:
I’m meant to name you traveler,
plant flowers where you run.
My dying days are done;
I need to put that shade away
and learn to live another way,
where colour blooms like thermal hotspring blue
in more than just your eyes, but all that you
direct those glowing eyes upon.
My love, my dying days are done,
my dying days are done,
my dying days are done.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. September 21, 2016 10:40 pm

    Wow!

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