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The End of Aloneness
Someday from now
when we're old and slow and fat and full and content
sitting on a wood plank porch and gazing at the sky
I will turn to you and take your hand in mine
study the age-raised veins along the back of your liver spotted skin
and I will kiss your hand
If not for you
I would have spent my life with my own arms locked around me
for lack of another embrace
I already learned to force bravery by pasting smiles over my lonely hours
Gloria Steinem and the Age of The Independent Woman postmodernism and other alternatives
can't take away from the naked bare fact
that nobody wants to be alone
some future day when we're old and fat and slow and full and content
I will tell you again about the years I spent alone waiting for you
And the millenniums I spend
writing thankful songs because you're finally mine.
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