Friday night freakout.

January 7, 2017


I want to keep her!

I want to hear her tiny voice singing songs in a language only known to her.

I want to sit her in my lap and smell her hair, damp and sweet from the bath.

I want to meet her impatient arms, always needing.

I want to put her in my pocket where the horns beeping and the whistles blowing cannot be heard.

 A secret I can carry.

This is love.

Love that knows my wants cannot be.

I cannot keep her.

She cannot stay.

Tomorrow, she will already be gone.  Different, somehow.

This is love and I want to keep her.  This is love and she cannot stay.


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