Twisting Hair In a Hollow
when we think to make believe
following a recent passing
love thrills beyond remark
as it fills the everlasting
hope ends without its washing
weathered gray replace the green
like starlight disembarking
as lips pray into the dream
tears quench weary wishing
time crawls through hollow fires
like a baby made of kindling
linking the last of a memory
to hair and fingers twisting
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