(By Sil, the 25th of June, London)
Growing into love
I had to learn from trees
Who confine
An infinite thirst for light
Inside small, delicate panes of leaf
And as I see the source
Of my contentment
Compacted down
To one man’s form
His fingers play to quell
This startled heart’s
Un-restful pulse
His whispered plea:
"Hush, now, my love.
Time is the master ghost
Who redeems all broken souls."
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