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I wake to the sound of you sweeping
up dust from the week and my dreams left from

sleep. Through restless nights, we stirred between walls because one of us could

not sleep. We wrestled with thoughts, then passed in the hall, eyes meeting, our lips turned

to curls. You bring me my coffee then strum your guitar. I think of your care for the man

on the street. Beyond what you know your tenderness shows shooing demons I’ve long accepted.

We once ran barefoot, sweat dripping, but now our feet hurt, vision blurs, we light

candles, eat dinner to movies. You’ve built us a castle. When the day comes, and there is just

one, as the sun sets, still set out two glasses. I’ll always be with you, I’ll keep you with me.

Growing old, we

grow up, we

go on.


Feature Photo: my gratitude to Cathal Mac an Bheatha, with thanks to Unsplash.

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