Friday, 7 August 2009


Your waking eyes held me, and kept me for much too long. Not a moment, not a minute, or an hour or a month.

When the hand quivered you held it still.
When the mind was at war you brought it to peace.
When the body grew tired you gave it a resting place in your arms.

The hand quivers.
The mind is at war.
The body is tired.

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