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May 2012
A hand reaches out
Worn and weathered, clenching yours
Pulling you from the grips of despair
My arms console you, unmasking a diamond soul

Fingertip tendrils,
with touches of love,
consoling and shielding;
a masked man from above.

Remove your own mask,
and mine will fall too,
show me your face, dear,
so that I may love you.
Julia Low
Written by
Julia Low
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