that first winter

there were so many
bursts of laughter
so much freedom
I barely had tasted it before

this great vulnerability
breathed and
spoke my name

every so often
touch it
and weep softly
as if
it wounded you too

(it does
i know
i’m sorry
and thank you)

you see these scars
as lines
of beauty
with hope

make me feel
that I am beautiful
and I remember
that to you,

I am.

in the night
my hands were cold
I dreamed
of something warmer
but woke up

“I wish you were here”

goes unsaid.


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