Like a stream swept
Stone You lay waiting for me Praying for a hand To find calm with your Curves For caressed you had Been With the flow Of falling water And blessed you had Become With the will Of passing waves Believing beyond hope In the pause between Breaths When a heart could find Hands And graciously hold The miracle it knew To be love from a stone
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PoetryBecause all that science just gets old after a while. Archives
October 2019
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