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Click hereIn the tender bruised hours before dawn
I can pursue thoughts of you,
and re-enact gentle plays of passion
with fond kisses,
words offered
bound in trepidation,
secluded from other eyes
I am free to capture your abandoned laughter,
yet always it leads
to a sacrament of tears.
I sculpt you
in ever deepening furrows,
day after day,
in the hopes of someday
having nothing but you and I
to remember.
Good poem. I don't have anything in particular to say about it. It's simply a good read.