Beneath my ear
your pulse is a choir,
an ascension of larks
in the gilded light of dawn.

In the halo of your grin
I can taste my redemption.
I lift my hands
and take you into my arms
piece by piece.

The spaces between us
are stitched together
with shadows.
The pressed ash
of dreams left too long
amongst the stars.
For you I could be made real.

I apologize for being late. I was out of town. Quick 5 minute write!


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