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from places
love was started –
without want
for something more
than a hand to hold
a tender want
to feed –
was there
when first you understood
how wrong a right
could be
how hands once
open wide
could close a door

from places
long forsaken
someone learns
to speak our name
as stories spin
life begins
from destinies untold –
lines are crossed
no going back
on this returning home
want no longer
waiting us –
another hand
to hold

. . .