Love and death
Lest
we
know
silence
comes
between us
so the only
hint
of assurance
is
in eyes
or skin
will I go
where
you go?
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Blessèd Be.
Note: These words came fully formed when I awoke this morning, cuddling with Jim, from a strange and elaborate dream of Bob Dylan being courted by a young ruffian whose poetry had caught his attention. The melody of "Romance in Durango" was playing in my head.
The soul is such a mystery.
Bright Crow