I only wash my finger
around your dampening eyes
to hear words and find others
to waltz with you beneath
these lowering clouds,

Lighting small torches
hoping to find the one that
burns the right part of me
away, to scent the world
better for you.

I only want to find
the hymns that write
your story in ways that
it no longer makes
your blood faster.

I only look to see
the glimmer and the hope
the wonder beating drums
and hear your trumpet ring
of slain dragons.

On the porch, warm night,
jumping each phone ring,
trying to remember
someone like he never was,
the only one facing it.

I only want to find how
I can spin it all to me
there’s so much room
to savor the weight
and lighten yours

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