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Your love is good to me,
clasped delicately
at my wrist,
where my heart
beats against my skin.
Your love is mine,
my face to the sky
worshipping the sun.
Your love is beautiful,
sheltering me
and presenting me
with a bouquet of reasons
to stay awake dreaming
through the rising of
a geometric dawn that
whispers in shafts
of light and shadow
through the curtains,
the breeze visiting
our sanctuary, carrying
with it the roar
of distant streets
like a man-made ocean,

we close our eyes
and listen
and hold fast to faith
and each other

and I am home
where so many things
are beginning and
full of promise
and I am freed
where grieving voices
fall silent and
the Chantilly lacework
of peace casts fine
silhouettes of grace
on the walls.

untitled photo by photographer Eva Push


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