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Jan 2012
Wrapped in your smile, toes toying at the edge
Where your eyes' soft cloth blankets me,
Blocks the wind, and the cold, red brick below,
I and you, swim silent alone,
Hot and deep in a tiny, bright star,
Until turning you tug at the covers,
Dragging with your eyes this warm world,
And the cold rushes back, and the brick,
And the wind.

Noises from the street carry softly over garden walls,
Of passing cars and passersby, and I wonder;
Do you know, any more than they do,
How the corners of your lips, when they open,
Open not to show rows of white pearl,
But instead to consume my heart?
Walter Louis Holohan
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