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when hearths
are warmed
by who we are
beyond the wait
where lanterns sway
beneath an ancient dark
evermore to waste

as time
we could not give
locks already failed
secrets bound together
by the ways
of which we came

had you known
of truths I carried –
a chair beside my bed
a hope
already seated
with my soul
leaving yet to suffer
memory to fill

save for me
a place you love
to love

. . .