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Mar 2019
You came to me
white calloused soles
soft on dry Spring leaves,
skin braced against
the cool haze
now burning off.
You wore your naked skin
bravely, bearing scars
inside and out
shy, afraid
nothing left to give up
but simple approach.
I knelt, kissed your feet
falling instantly in love
with your awkward knees,
the stub of your ***,
the sinews in your shoulders.
It was this. A meeting
and the world was
not the same.
Stephen Starr
Written by
Stephen Starr  62/M/Evanston, IL
(62/M/Evanston, IL)   
337
 
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