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Monday, 2 November 2015

End ...

Joy be to the person
Blissful enough
to have your scent
lingering on their skin,
Through churned soils
of your blooms,
fortunate lips
to have ever met yours,
glazing towards burning suns,
ears which hold
your words in,
tangled webs of your hair
weaving days into nights,
and darkness adorned
by your whispers,
soft caresses of your fingertips,
cheeks on cheeks,
skin on skin,
the blessed soul
that has your heart to keep,
grateful kisses on faded bodies,
monochrome of your eyes,
and the taste
from where you begin,
be that his eternal peace,
be that his glorious end.