He Traces my Soul with Fire

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He plays the violin on my heart
Drawing the bow
Across its sinews
I dance in the symphony of his presence
And then he’s gone

The strings grind on a sour note
And the world comes to a halt
In the silence
And I grapple in the dark
Like a rose yearning to soak up the light
Until he returns

Like a swooping leaf
Caught on the whim
Of a cold autumn breeze
I float on the wind of his fancy
And with his eyes
He traces my soul with fire





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