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Poetry

Come Answering | Poem

It’s time I sleep with the memories collected,

I see her smiling face, the words, and love.

Deathra, what’s this happening inside my heart?

It feels warm and cold; amid the pain and the fear.

When I see her again, it may come answering,

What do you call a touch when it is healing, Deathra?

©sjwordsmith

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