me tangere

Yes even our words yearn to touch each other

In the story, in the song, in the lament

I will undress here on this page again

It seems to be a compulsion of mine

Clumsy and artless as it may be

I will tell you the truth and hope you don’t turn away

As I sift the green pages for your gold

Because what else do we have to give in this life,

Other than our stories and our love?

— DanielSouthGate

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