Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Hold the Broken

Had we more arms to gather,
Searchers, find, had we more
Room to shelter, care to fodder,
Palliative expression's hide: 
Oh, touch-starved lovelies,
I would hold you. I would
Bring you gently into night.
That good, good night of
Solace, lose my senses.
Tender losses, I would
Keep you, ever after,
Safe inside.

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