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Dec 2018
The rain forms rivulets
racing down our windshield,
soft whispers in the night,
promises of the things to come,
morning sons and daughters,
of life given selflessly,
my hand in yours,
writing gentle vows around your finger;
take my name and I'll bear
your burdens as you'll bear mine,
with lace and white veils,
the shields we'll use
******* and bound
across these shifting time lines
with each other
once again.
Eric W
Written by
Eric W  31/M
(31/M)   
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