March 13, 2015

Grapple



reaching out to touch the wooden night stand
the surface feels smooth to the palm of the hand
seeing with your heart this stand at night
tears well and fall, hindering vision from sight


memories catch and hurt, deep in your throat
on a crest of a wave, you surrender and float


cold numbs, once love, and the wind blows free
eyes burn then close, nights hungry sea



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