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I never ask you for a ring, Or fine dining, For your gaze burns Fiercer than cubic zirkonia, Sending fire through my veins, Your eyes my nourishment. So hand me a sweater From the donation center, I'd wear with pride. Gift me a piece of cake, From the soup kitchen, I'd gladly eat. Hold my hand, Which awakens To your touch.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things