Wednesday, April 8, 2015

the other half

fractured, fragile, borrowed and frail
I wait to exhale
cool air that blows long
and lands upon the nearest
soul

it attempts
to fill this hole
warm with steam
and rising heat
I am complete

and I retreat
into its grace

i feel your hand
gently land
upon my face
and wipe the
tear
from my cheek
i pray your soul
is mine to keep

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