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Light
December 1, 2017
The scrunching feeling
The knot that won’t untie
Hands passing each number in rotation
Three piercing words to show affection
Striking through the heart
Stressful nights to come
Lost in a forest of emerald green
Blood curdling and alarming
Until the beacon of light
Guides you
With warm open arms
Acceptance even at thy worst
To smother until the sun sets west
And the hands pass each number
In an ever binding, infinite circle
I love you
© Anonymous
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