Kindred.2

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15/9/16 A poem of love to a close one who no longer wishes to be close

I can see you, 

sitting in your thinking chair,

your legs folded beneath you,

coffee in hand,

a pensive look painted on your face.

 

I can hear your circular thoughts,

swirling faster, ever faster,

down, down, down...

as you miss me

and miss the freedom to be you.

 

I felt the love of your hand,

as you felt the love of mine.

I felt the love in your smile

and the light in your eyes

as they met mine and saw home.

 

I feel your fear of loneliness

and hunger eternal,

I can feel your squirming, writhing soul,

desperate to be rid of itself,

desperate for an out.

 

I can take your punches, Kindred.

I can take your rage and your rejection, Kindred.

I can take your fear and your distress, Kindred.

I can take it all, Kindred.

Nothing is over.

 

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