Friday, November 8, 2013


They come all the way
across the Indian ocean
past the Cape of
Good Hope
and beyond it,

her head and
to find solace
in the words
I write for you.

She presumes
I understand the patterns
people who part
imprint on the souls
they leave behind.

I don't.

She eavesdrop
as I talk to you
in each and every line,
she knows my fears
and still finds me brave.

I'm not.

Except in my dreams,
when you come close and
I'm embraced
by your presence.
I'm invincible then.

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