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wherestillIknow

for a moment
beginning
tho no one knows how
love becomes memory –
a faraway
flame

silence is tempted
to speak
of our loss
scars nearly faded
are remembered
by name

a tenderness
forged
by the ways we have come
returning our soul
as truth
unto light

sealed from the trading
gifts us again –
folded as prayer
as wings
into flight

. . .