Saturday, August 29, 2009

Cradle

Cradle the child in your arms, the child me, the child that is us and we might make it through this one. We’ll make it through this one, this soggy wind, this shingle shamble, it’s dry and warm and we’re safe in your arms. And I might sleep with the dust of you in my eyes, and I might wake up with the grain of you under my skin, and I might listen to your voice for just a minute.

The nightlight, it sends the past shooting like rockets exploding through our very souls, and it fades to teary eyes but don’t cry, oh no, puddles all muddled in the present, a wet walk to the future surely.

Just touch me, I miss you and I love you tonight like never before and that is true from the depth of it all. Just try to see the bottom. Just try.

Read the bedtime story with the sleepy lids please tonight

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