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May 2011
Quietly loving you, quietly holding my heart in your hands
Sitting under this leaking roof, gripping each others hands
Running my fingers through your short, black, hair
You wrap your arms around me, sweat, breath
Eyes telling me something words cannot, never will
Your breath has a voice of its own, drowning my mind
Spinning my body down to ground level, bottoming out
Resting shoulder blades on these old floor boards
Hearing the groaning of this dusty house
But this stillness overwhelms me, compounding my reflections
Wasting notepad upon notepad, trying to describe these nights with you
Balling up countless verses, throwing them in a pile
Waiting for this roof to cave in one day, so we can watch the sunrise
From the warmth of our blankets on the floor
Patrick Kennon
Written by
Patrick Kennon  33/M/x
(33/M/x)   
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