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this heart
it may be jaded –
these arms
tremble yet
fingers search in darkness
for your own
a moment
recreating –
the warmth that is your touch
a smile to learn –
a breath to bring me

these tired lungs
remember –
the crush of rivers cold
the curve
of ancient stones
beneath my skin
a time
absolved from passing –
cherished by the sea
from oceans
nearly empty
we begin

. . .