it occurs to me:
dear r,
i take your hand, just a finger
touch it to a slip of velvet
from your vulnerable bag
i listen for an audible whisper
the kiss and swish in the eardrum of your fingertip
i know i am right even before
the lines in your forehead release
and it occurs to me
i’ve won your presence, at least for a time
until probably you will grimace again
maybe desperate to unbend
a straight sheet of notebook paper
or unable to pull apart red lines
but for now its love
and it occurs to me
i’ve begun to believe in heaven-ly
lips i part placidly
perched and pursed in
perfect preface to paradise
exposing forgiveness by name
and it occurs to me
i love you
copy write JANEisnotplain 2004
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