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Doe Eyes

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I now know where the term
Doe Eyes
comes from.
From this close, I can’t look away.

In my hand I hold not just an apple,
But the trust of an animal
Whose father’s head may be on a living room wall
Whose son’s antlers may be tattooed on shoulders or biceps.

I hold the trust of this being without ever speaking a word to it.
Our gaze proclaims understanding,
Our cautious movements say good will,
Our time together whispers of peace.






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