thank you poem


with your hands
you bless me entire
surely and forever
i did not know before what was mine
what was written in dark ink
in my palm
cursed as i am with words, metaphors
i lose my speech
stuttering heartbeats instead
watching you sleep in my bed
here are my poems
take them
i wrote them all for you
who gave me back the beauty that was mine

i would like to have known you for centuries

michèle voltaire marcelin

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