We touch, we embrace, the hour late.
A simple equation: your hands plus mine.
Long division, remainder great.
Bewildered by the energy we create,
our arms around what, we can’t define.
We touch, we embrace, the hour late.
Missing pieces seek out mates.
Will we be more than parallel lines?
Long division, remainder great.
Too worn and weary to calculate.
Want to get past what is and isn’t mine.
We touch, we embrace, the hour late.
But ours is not a mathematical fate.
Our halting pace can still feel divine.
Long division, remainder great.
Your head in my lap, that welcome weight.
Hold me as my eyes start to shine.
We touch, we embrace, the hour late.
Long division, remainder great.
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2 comments:
I've always loved this one.
Thanks. Some layered moments there, for sure.
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