Pick a number
One by one until there is a string of rosary beads
To account for the times you have strayed from the path
Of affectionate carelessness.
Im a heartbeating whole of another's life,
mothers waist round my own slight
Knowledge of a sure and stable path
A path which leads to the pleasance of age
In accepting the stumblings of its own ragged feet, high heels have no place any longer.
I would apologize for the things I have said and done but in the end
Counting crows is sadder than
My own Welsh life. A toothache has been hurting me here,
A nail scratch on my blue veined wrist and intentional scar of the desperation.
I will tell you there is no reason to fear. I tell you there is no reason to season your sorrows with reason.
If ever a fear was worth forgetting it was the fear of not forgetting the way he touched your hair
You're there.
A moment from the thoughtlessness. A moment away from losing reason.
A slice away from the crack in the door.
The light shines through. You're heaven is there
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