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The Fountain

If you ask me to read, I’ll say only the good —in spite of what others might think Once your blood has been spilled, and the cut is deep —my task to heal, not push to drug or to drink If the pain is too great, my heart you may take —as I suture you back from the brink From this deepest of wounds that I surround and embrace, as a fountain —where you may now drink (Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Book: Shattered Sighs