Fire place

in fiction •  7 years ago  (edited)

Your smile was the ember that warmed my heart
When I stride across Street lights in a lonely night
Your glorious eyes, they
Stunt my head
above shining bulbs and cringing fears

I thought I hold you close, Oma!
I thought you owned the hands that groped my brain
At the turn of nights
Before dripping trousers and wettish dreams
i thought i could forever hold you close

But as I stride through the lights this lonely night
And your heart warmed the fireplace of many more
I make a prayer, one too small.
"May they Lord, have other wood stalked in their racks".

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