He Was

November 10, 2016
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Long loping strides and a lion smile

His angular palms resting on solid ribs

Perhaps I'll die alone


Crooked toes and black woolen socks

His eyes like roman silver

He isn't the only one


A game of war

His knee resting on hardwood

I will not settle for calamity


An avoiding gaze

His rigid jaw

My stitches ripple beneath frigid flesh


My mother says I'll romance again

There are three billion stars in our galaxy

Yet, I find patience to be a very long time

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