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it seems a day
or maybe more –
since the aching
of darkness
remembered to light
since the morning
came softly
in search of a reason
a place to keep memories –
a broken down gate
sits at the parting
where all is forgotten
but the sweet velvet brush
of heaven on skin
a whispering promise
of silent surrender –
of all that is certain
given whole
to the night

. . .