Sunday, 24 August 2014

Years Like This

Can I touch you,
With gentleness?

Reach out to feel
What it is you feel?

The sun is rolling to the edge;
The rain is only empty now.

I need to find a way
Where there is none,

To see if I can see you
As you really are.

I’m so sorry for the evil;
My conceit, my arrogance.

Can I reach out and touch you
Now, here, and tomorrow?

And let the ache
Take us home?

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