Strong was the art our eyes would steal.
Long was the waiting for hearts to heal.
Meeting in strange and unusual places,
Leathered and crease-worn, fragile faces,
Swirling with music of wrapped invitations,
Migrating downward in lost hesitations.
Always the life that someone else chose,
Bodies unwrapping a stranger’s clothes.
Grins that we wore like gashes we tore,
In the flesh of our minds,...
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